My room was dark. I was awakened by CandyMan, my husband, calling my name. I was vaguely aware that he had gotten out of bed earlier to go running. I was happy to stay in bed and sleep for a few extra….precious….minutes. My bed was warm and the house was cold. The kids would still be in bed for a while longer, and since everyone was on antibiotics for strep (yes, everyone!) I figured they needed the extra sleep.
It took me a few long seconds for my brain to compute that he was calling me. That his voice sounded urgent. I’d better respond.
I ran downstairs, still in a haze, and found him in the kitchen with AJ, our youngest son. He was holding one of the bottles of Amoxicillan from the fridge, and still it didn’t compute. It was early.
“How much was left in this bottle?” he asked.
It was only the 2nd day of antibiotics. The bottle was nearly full of the 10-day, 3-doses-a-day pink stuff. AJ was the child that didn’t have to be forced to take his medicine. He liked the pink stuff.
Too much, apparently.
When I realized that 3 year old AJ had crept into the kitchen while everyone was sleeping, opened the refrigerator, reached up onto the top door shelf, outsmarted the child-proof cap, and chugged the entire grown-child-10-day-supply of antibiotics, I woke up. My mind was finally clear and I started to think.
Call the doctor.
Time to take him to the ER.
But who goes? Someone has to stay behind with the other four, sleeping kids.
I stayed behind. It was horrible to watch them leave. I was confident that amoxicillan was one of the “better” drugs to overdose on. But how much can a 3 year old handle? And what was going to happen at the hospital?
So many questions.
Finally, an email. Thank goodness for camera phones and Facebook apps. My little boy, all covered in charcoal, inside and out, was ok. He was happily sucking on a popsicle, oblivious to the stress that he’d put his poor parents through.
What a way to wake up.
First drink of charcoal:
After a full cup of charcoal (not the easiest stuff to get down a child’s throat):
Glad it wasn’t my bed…..
Popsicles make everything better (except for Mommy’s nerves):
Apparently, AJ’s fever and trip to the doctor has me thinking medical. This was the first story that came to my mind when I read MamKat’s writing prompt, “This one time I was sleeping and…” This happened a while ago….
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