One of the very best things about Poison Control is that they always call you back to see how things are going. That second phone call has traditionally been much calmer from my end of things.
Apparently I have a tradition of calling Poison Control.
But, like, despite my best efforts apparently my kids are going to do things like drink insect repellent (Zoë), eat random yard mushrooms (Alexander), or...you know...bite a venomous caterpillar (Phoebe).
Before that I evidently was able to keep track of my kids well enough to keep them out of such mischief.
Or I was just plain lucky.
The first time I called Poison Control it felt like I was some kind of human failure because...I don't know why. I'd messed up my streak of not calling Poison Control? But I learned that they are the nicest people so now I call with only a little bit of sheepishness and say, "Hey, yeah, hi. Me again. So, my kid ate a weird bug. What do I do?"
And they are always very nice. And they always make a follow-up call. And if everything could run as smoothly as poison control I think the would be in very good shape.
But this isn't really a PSA for Poison Control, though, seriously, do not hesitate to call them if you think you or a loved one may have ingested...or touched...or inhaled...something poisonous because no matter how ridiculous your story is, they will take you seriously, help calm you down, and give you excellent advice (which I assume is sometimes, "Get thee to a hospital!").
And then they'll call you an hour later to make sure you're no longer hyperventilating and your toddler is still alive.
Probably better to never have to call Poison Control, really. But I'm just saying that if you find yourself wondering whether you should call Poison Control, better safe than sorry.
So, anyway...Phoebe bit a caterpillar today.
I thought it was dead.
But after I'd finished running around the house (like a chicken with its head cut off) with her, I handed Phoebe off to a big sister (Rachel? Miriam? I dunno. They were both around and I handed the baby to...whoever) so I could call poison control in peace and quiet (because Phoebe was offering none of those things).
And I figured I should probably be near the poisonous thing when I called, just in case they asked me any questions about it, and I noticed that it had uncurled itself from its little ball and was quickly crawling for safety, so we put it in a jar.
As Andrew said in his Tweet about this sad little tale, thanks to evolution, this little dude survived!
But you can see the damage done to his little hair-do. There's a significant share of hairs missing from this side of his fuzzy little body. We can only assume those are in Phoebe's body now.
You can see she has a bit of a rash under her lip (kind of on the left side of her face, the side toward the bottom of the picture for those of us who are directionally-challenged).