Wednesday, August 31, 2011

August 31, 2011 ~ Day 264
Pink Raspberry Disaster

"How are you feeling?" I ask my two year old daughter.

"I feel bedda!" she giggles. "I am dood, Mommy. I feel dood." (good)

I look into her large hazel eyes, which seem brighter and glossier than normal. They twinkle at me as she smiles.

I exhale.

* * * * * * * *

This morning I called my big sister to talk over my new business plans from last night, and get her feedback as both an educator and the mother of four children.

She wasn't home so I left a message.

Here are the cast of characters who were in my house at the time:

Me, a 35 year old mother
Gabriela*, our Mexican-American housekeeper who comes on Wednesdays
My three children - Bug (6), Bean (4), Bee (2)

Gabriela and I continued to buzz around my tiny home like butterflies, making beds and washing dishes, scrubbing the bathroom. Sweeping. Herding children.

The telephone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi! I got your message and am calling you back."

"Hey!"
I felt happy to hear my sister's voice. "Thanks so much. I'm really excited to talk over some new ideas I've had with you."

We got involved in conversation. All three of my children were milling throughout the house, then going to play in the back yard, then coming back into the house. My four year old son wrapped himself around my leg and tried to tickle me.

At some point I realized that my daughter was no longer in sight, and wondered what she was up to. I went to look for her, still chatting with my sister, and when I found my little girl seated at her small table she grinned up at me with a truly beatific smile.

Uh oh.

A pink smile.

A syrupy thick pink smile the color of bubble gum, princess dresses and flowers.

"What have you been eating, princess? Did you find a crayon? Is that paint?"


(This is what I remember thinking, it may not be what I actually said out loud. I felt mildly worried but crayons aren't too serious - she once downed an entire bottle of blue crayola paint and the good folks from poison control said it was completely non-toxic.)

My four year old grabbed an empty bottle off of the floor.

"Here Mommy. I think this is what she was eating."


I looked at the bottle he was holding and suddenly it came into sharp focus. I realized with horror what had filled that bottle just moments earlier.

"Oh my God. I've got to call you back."

Just minutes before, the bottle had been resting (tightly closed) at the back of a high wooden counter - containing at least 85 pills.

Raspberry flavored pills.

Pink colored, raspberry flavored pills.

Each one of which contained 1000 mcg of Vitamin B12, or as the bottle says "16,667% Recommended Daily Value" of Vitamin B12.

85 pills. 1000 mcg each.

I'm not a math genius but even I know that 85,000 mcg of Vitamin B12 is a massive overdose.

If you run the numbers (which I didn't do until now, 10 hours later) it comes to 1,416,695,000% of the recommended daily intake - for adults - of Vitamin B12.

Understandably, I started to shake.

"Oh My God. Gabriela, Gabriela! I've got to call California poison control RIGHT NOW."

Thank heaven for Google.Com... I had their number within seconds and was already hearing the line ring when I noticed the next piece of evidence.

A cereal bowl full of pink milk.

Thick pink milk.

"Hello, California Poison Control."

"Hello I am calling about my two year old daughter who just found and ingested an entire bottle of Vitamin B12."

"How much does she weigh?"


My brain froze. For a moment I honestly couldn't remember her weight. Was it 26 pounds? 28 pounds? 34 pounds? She just had her checkup and yet for the life of me, the number wouldn't come into my mind.

"Um, I think about 28 pounds. She is also very tall for her age."

"How many pills were in the bottle?"

"It was nearly full, and it contains 90."

"So the worst case scenario is that she had 90?"

"No, I'd taken at least a few of the pills. Worst case scenario would be 85, but I can see that she put some of them in her cereal milk... so probably less."


I was physically shaking as I held her in my lap. "Should I be rushing her to get her stomach pumped?"

"Not necessarily - just hold on."


I sat on the other end of the line, staring deeply into my daughter's eyes. I spoke to her in a calm voice.

"Are you okay? Is your tummy okay? Can you talk to me?"

She stared at me solemnly and silently. Her pupils seemed wider than normal and her eyes were so glossy.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"Your daughter is going to be just fine."

"What? Really?"

"Yes. You don't need to take her anywhere. B12 is a water soluble vitamin. Your daughter's body will take what it needs and excrete anything it doesn't need into her waste."

"Even though she took the entire bottle?"

"Yes. She can eat or drink anything she wants to, no restrictions. She'll be okay."

"Really?"
I teared up. "Thank you so much. God bless you."

"May I have your telephone number to call back and check on her later today?"

"Yes, of course,"
and I gave it to her gladly.

I hung up and hugged my daughter tightly.

Gabriela stood close at hand. "What did they say?"

I relayed the information, taking it all in.

My daughter, still in my lap, began to wiggle and smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel bedda!"
she giggled. "I am dood, Mommy. I feel dood." (good)

I looked into her large hazel eyes, which seemed brighter and glossier than normal. They twinkled at me as she smiled.

* * * * * * *

I've watched my daughter like a hawk for the rest of the day. No telephone calls. Never out of my sight. I've given her so much water to drink, so that she could get the B12 out of her system the "natural" way.

When I saw that she was taking more risks than normal and acting pretty silly, I moved all of us into her bedroom, shut the baby gate and sat there while they played for an hour.

I knew my children would be safe in their carefully baby-proofed bedroom and at that moment it simply felt like the most practical way to keep everyone calm and making good choices.

I folded laundry and worked on paying bills while sitting with my three children within arms reach.

Probably an overreaction, but it helped me to settle my nerves.

After a few hours had passed with no serious repercussion, I knew that the woman at Poison Control was right. My daughter was fine.

The only side-effects I could visibly see from the megadose:

Her speech became extremely clear.
She was doubly energetic.
She continued to say, "I feel bedda! I feel dood!"

In the end, we were so incredibly blessed. My children and I all learned an important lesson about medicine safety the hard way, without any real harm to my sweet daughter.

Still, this is an experience I never want to go through again.

Despite how embarrassing it is, and how poorly it speaks to my own mothering abilities, I decided to write about our day candidly to help spread the word and raise awareness about how easy it is for two year old children to get into vitamins and medicines.

Even when they are placed on high counters and shelves in tightly sealed bottles. Even when there are caring adults and siblings right there, just steps away.

Two year olds are like little Houdinis. They're almost magical in their ability to make food and treats vanish. They can escape even the most watchful eyes. They are hazardous to their own health.

I don't know how my daughter got the bottle off the back of that countertop but I'm guessing it was the same way she usually steals food when we're not looking. She typically drags over a chair, climbs up on it, and then roots around for treats.

She probably thought those vitamins were sweet raspberry candies.

Again, the vitamin theft and ingestion occurred with four other people working, talking and playing in close range of my little girl.

We got very lucky today but honestly, it was such a narrow escape. What if she had chosen to open a bottle of aspirin? What if it had been a fat soluble vitamin - Vitamin A?

I shudder to think.

From now on, all of our vitamins and medicines are moving at least 6 feet off the ground... preferably in a locked cupboard.

Tonight I hugged my little princess a little bit longer than normal as I helped her Daddy put her to bed. I love that little magical mischief-maker so much.

She is the sweetest, silliest kid. We really need her to stick around.





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