There are so many things I intend to blog about, but never do. Then something, or in this case somebody reminds me and then I just MUST tell the story.
April 17th, my 25th birthday, was not a usual day by any means. We moved into our apartment on the 16th and due to some VERY cranky children we were juggling unpacking with watching a 2 and 4 year old climb into boxes, dump boxes, move things, and whatever else they find interesting. Actually to be more specific it wasn’t really “we”, but just “me” since Justin spent most of the day at church rehearsing for our (former) church’s HUGE Easter program.
I was unpacking one of the kids room and I smelled something. It was the kind of something you know you recognize, but just can place. I shrugged it off and kept unpacking, after all, it didn’t smell dangerous (like a cleaner) but minty.
I found a mislabeled box and went to take it to the master bathroom. As I’m walking around the corner I hear Jordan screaming/crying “ouch! It hurts my mouth! I don’t like it!!” I look at her and then it hits me, the “smell” is Bengay! I see an empty tube on my floor with Jordan using her hands to try and wipe off the “burn” from her tongue. Her hair matted and stuck to her face with what I can only assume is also Bengay. Later I realized how much I hoped it was Bengay and not some other (undefined) something she may have gotten into. The unknown in this case is MUCH worse.
I am not one of those prepared moms. I stood, staring at her in awe and it hit me. I do not have the number for poison control…I do not know the name of that “stuff” that you are supposed to have on hand that makes kids vomit (and obviously I did not have it on hand).
I always assumed when I had an emergency I could call 911 or hop online to find a “solution” or at least a phone number (Poison Control). However, I just moved so I did not have internet connection. I settled for the next best solution.
I called my mom, but she was at church and didn’t answer. I then called Justin’s mom (I actually don’t remember what that conversation went like).
I resorted to throwing Jordan in a shower and hoping the empty bottle was mostly on her body and not her mouth. I just sat and watched her for about 15 minutes to make sure she didn’t drop to the floor – phone in hand ready to call 911. She survived. She didn’t even vomit. And her whole body (head to toe) smelled of Bengay for a couple of days.
Lesson Learned: Unpack medical things first… oh and I should probably find the number for poison control.