Getting Back To Good

"honey....honey! wake up! I just went to take my medicine, and spilled them everywhere....I found all of them but one....can you look for it? Watch the baby really good....I love you, bye"

That's what I woke up to thursday morning.

Avonlea decided that she didn't want the eggs and sausage I made her for breakfast. Or the yogurt. Or the waffle I made her. Or the toast. And when she refused the mandarin oranges, I knew something was up. And when she started furiously rubbing her eyes and face, I plopped her in the tub thinking she had gotten pepper in her eyes from the eggs.

And then she was all mottled and blueish.

And then she was acting like a crazy person, scratching her body, pulling her hair and her ears, shaking, and screaming like she was on fire.

I let her run around naked in her room, her feet weaving her around the sand-colored carpet, and I called my friend Amy to pick her brain. We decided I should call the pediatrician. So I went downstairs, and that's when I saw it on the floor.

The Missing Pill. Laying in a drool soaked puddle.

The Missing Pill is a high dose, extended release Ritalin derivative. An amphetamine.

That's right, say it with me.

FUCK.

Poison control said I needed to take her to the Emergency room, so I packed up the babe, inconsolable, and brought her to my hospital. They were waiting for us, had a room all ready. Some bloodwork, an IV, a few EKGs, and a bottle of bubbles later, we were admitted to the med-surg floor for monitoring. She had had some EKG changes, and her heart enzymes were elevated. By 6pm the inconsolable-ness had worn off, and she was literally running around like she was on speed. Well, that's because she was. We had a rough, sleepless night of flying around the unit saying "hi! hi! hi! hi! hi!" to everyone/everything we could.

Our morning labs were not improved, but the repeat EKG was. They wanted to keep us another night, but this Momma had had enough. And so we packed up the babe and brought her home to her own toys, her own tub, and her own bed.

She's back to her normal self, no Speedy Gonzalez anymore, and despite a few nightmares that needed some momma hugs and kisses, she's back to good.

Might take Mommy a little longer. The guilt on this side of the fence is overwhelming. But I guess all those times that I told all those Other Mommies who walked into my unit "it could have happened to anyone".... guess I wasn't really lying. Because it happened to me. In a minute.

So, I'll work on the guilt. And I'll hug through the nightmares. And I'll get back to good, too.

A special thank you to all the souls who brought needed supplies, gave advice despite the unpredictable outcomes, treated, cared for and loved my little one and me. And for the night crowd who tip-toed and kept me going through the long night with texts and visits, kisses and kind words. You are loved and appreciated more than you could ever know.