1-800-222-1222 (Poison Control Center’s National Number)

By Megan

I’ve never had to call the Poison Control Center before.

I suppose I was naive in thinking I might get through parenthood without ever dialing the number up there in the title line, my hands shaking, my voice a quivering combination of tears and terror. This weekend, though, that hideous nightmare woke up at the FriedOkra household, and I now have the Poison Control phone number embossed, taped, spray-painted and cross-stitched on at least one permanent fixture in every room.

I’ve also had my heart in my throat for nearly 24 hours now and I expect it’s going to stay there for another week or two.

He can’t walk, open a cabinet, or pry the lid off a safety-sealed medicine bottle, but Mr. Peabody nearly ended up in the emergency room eating a heapin’ helping of charcoal all the same, thanks to poor communication between his parents.

Our little guy’s busily cutting his first two teeth this week (well, this week and the past 4 months, if teething and pools of drool are any indication of such) and although we TRY to help him as best we can with teething rings and cool washcloths and our own ACHING FINGERS, Saturday afternoon found him miserable and crying at nap time, so I reluctantly gave him a dose of infant acetominophen, nursed him, and lay him down to sleep in his crib.

He fumed a bit, grizzled, whined and sent out the occasional shriek as he played with a small stuffed dog Bean and I bought for him before he was born, and I sat listening on the other side of his nursery wall in my own bedroom, waiting to hear if he’d erupt into big cries or slowly chat himself off to sleep. To my great relief, he finally quieted and I settled deep into my chair to do some reading.

Fifteen minutes later, Al wandered into the bedroom, yawning and stretching.
“Did you take a nap?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “I was rocking Peabody to sleep.”
“Oh. I thought he’d gone to sleep on his own.”
“Nah, I went in because I heard him fussing a little and I saw his nose was running and he was chewing his fist, so I gave him some Tylenol.”

(All air spontaneously sucked out of room in brief silent pause.)

“You gave him Tylenol? I gave him Tylenol! How much did you give him?” I breathlessly squeaked out.

“The dosage on the bottle for his weight.”

Panic time.

Al rushed to Peabody’s room to retrieve the bottle of infant Tylenol and I simultaneously searched online for the state Poison Control phone number and anything I could find on acetomenophen overdoses in six-month-olds. I picked up the phone, nearly paralyzed with fear at what I’d read online, and spoke with a stern-sounding but efficient representative at the Poison Control Center. Turns out that since I gave Peabody only HALF the dose for his weight (unless a drug’s been prescribed by my kids’ pediatrician, I always try to make do with a very low dose for the child’s size and age, because I really don’t like giving meds to children at all), the combination of Al’s full dose and my half dose didn’t add up to a dose that posed risks for Peabody. He only got a dose and a half.

A double dose, though, can be harmful.

Even slightly larger-than-appropriate doses of the very commonly-used acetomenophen, often given as a result of poor communication between a child’s caregivers, CAN BE FATAL.

Which brings me to my point.

If you and your spouse or other participants in  your child’s daily care HAVEN’T established a clear plan for communicating about the administration of medicines and over-the-counter drugs for your kids, PLEASE DO IT NOW.

1. Of course, first and foremost, post any and all relevant emergency numbers close to every phone and carry them with you in your purse or wallet, as well. The national number for the Poison Control Center above automatically rolls to your own state’s PC Center, so 800-222-1222 is the number to know, no matter where you are in the US.

2. Talk to your spouse or other adults who share responsibility for caring for your child(ren) and agree that you will immediately check with each other BEFORE you give a child any medicine.

3. I’m also instituting a back-up plan in case verbal communication breaks down somehow. I’m placing a small card and pencil in the boxes with all of our kids’ medicines so that with each dose, we can write the child’s name, date, time and amount given.

4. I won’t tell you how to dose your kids, but I will suggest that you make sure you’ve done your research about the recommended dosage and the side-effects and potential dangers of each drug you give your child BEFORE you give it to them. All of this information is readily available online by searching on the name of the drug. Based on what your research reveals, if the drug and dosage haven’t been directly prescribed by your child’s physician, you might want to use a conservative smaller-than-recommended dose first and then increase it as needed, but never above the stated safe dosage based on weight. (If you don’t know your child’s weight, you can easily determine it by weighing both of you, then just you, and subtracting your own weight from your combined weight.)

Peabody’s fine and dandy. But you can be sure we’ve learned a very, very important lesson we’ll NEVER forget. I’m hoping I can help somebody else learn it now, too, vs. having to learn it the hard way, as we almost did.

Find Megan blogging at FriedOkra.