I lost my voice this weekend. I haven’t spoken above a whisper since last Friday night.
Backstory: Woke up the day before BFF with a sore throat. Thought, “Fuck you, sore throat,” and pressed on. By Monday Oliver had one too and mine hadn’t gotten better, so we got checked out. Diagnosis: virus. Oliver got better, I didn’t.
I got worse. By the time Friday night rolled around, I was feeling pretty shitty. My throat was sore. Ridiculously sore. I had a feeling a visit with a physician was in my near future, and when I woke up the next morning I knew there was more than a virus going on in my throat – that fucker was infected. It was like, fire in there. Swallowing was like eating syringes. My chest was burning, my mouth hurt and my neck, good grief, my neck felt gigantic. It was all throbby, like it had its own heartbeat. I had to touch it, just to make sure it was a normal size, because I felt like Henry Rollins.
So I got up slowly. Washed my face, popped some Tylenol and sipped a cup of coffee, hoping that I’d feel better as I woke up, but I didn’t. I just felt worse. By eleven I was in the shower, because even though I was just going to sit a clinic waiting room and share germs with sick strangers, one glance at my head revealed what side I'd slept on that night. And, contrary to popular belief, I do have some standards.
“I have a really sore throat,” I croaked when the doctor asked me what was wrong. “Actually, my entire mouth hurts.”
He nodded as he peered down my throat with his light saber thingy. “You’ve got quite an infection,” he said, adding that not only was my throat infected, my vocal chords were, too.
I walked out of there with a prescription and strict orders not to talk for the weekend. Did you know that whispering and talking are one in the same? You may think you’re doing your throat a favour by whispering, but guess what, sucka? You’re not.
(An aside: It’s been interesting, not being able to communicate with my children primarily through speech. Not only have they had to actually listen to me, the three of us have used a lot of gestures, facial expressions and body language in order to convey thoughts, something that I found quite intimate. I felt closer to my kids, more connected; it made me realize how much can be lost in language and the depth of what we can convey without actually speaking.)
By the time I got home I felt like my neck was going to explode. Dave took Oliver out for a bit, and thank god he did, because I took complete advantage of being down one kid. I popped Julia some corn, put a movie on and promptly fell asleep on the couch beside her.
I got up when Dave came home, not because I wanted to but because Oliver could smell the popcorn from the mailbox and NEEDED a bowl RIGHT THAT VERY SECOND lest he BURST INTO FLAMES. I got a bowl from the cupboard, put it on the counter and motioned for Julia to fill it, pointing at the bag by the toaster. While she did, I got a pill and was going to get some water out of the fridge when I noticed her struggling to get the popcorn out of the bag. As I reached over to help her, my pill slipped from my palm, fell on the floor and cracked in two.
And Oliver, quick as fucking lightning, snatched up one half and shoved it in his mouth.
For a few seconds I was completely frozen. I could see the other half of the pill on the floor and I zoned in on it before I picked it up. There was this part of me that thought, Okay, chances are that this is a dosage that will not harm my child. BREATHE. The other part of me was a stunned sort of panic: Holy shit. That was bad and it happened way too fast.
My reaction was moderate panic. Moderate escalating panic.
“No! NO! Oliver! NONONONO!” I yelled.
“What?!” Dave shouted from the den, at the same time Julia screamed, “MUMMY! You’re TALKING!”
I crouched down and shoved my hand under the oven, slid it across the floor. “Did you eat it?” Jesus, he ate it. It happened so fast. I grabbed hold of his wrist. “Oliver, love,” I hissed. My throat was screaming. “Did you eat the pill?”
Dave was crouched on the floor beside me and we stared at our son, who was starting to get upset. He had a funny taste in his mouth, he said, and could he have a bottle of water?
So Dave called Poison Control. My Voice of Reason was right, the dose was small, too small to cause damage. At the very least, he’d have a stomach ache later on. A large glass of water was advised and, with absorption in mind, we gave him something to eat. But he was fine; completely unaffected. He ate dinner, packed back half a jumbo Freezie and ran around the backyard before bed like a little tornado.
It stayed with me for a while afterward, that incident and my thoughts about it. He picked up that pill so fast, so quickly. I didn’t see him put it in his mouth. I saw him reach for it and I saw the sour look on his face after he’d bitten down on it, but I didn’t see him put it in his mouth. It happened so fast. That seems to be the running theme with my son. He’s active, he’s busy, he’s curious and mischievous. He has no fear, throws caution to the wind; he’s rough and tumble. He’s a blur in like, half the pictures we take of him.
He happens quickly.
53 Comments, Comment or Ping
you “felt like fucking henry rollins” can be taken a couple ways, and the way i read it made me laugh a bit…
scary about ollie popping that pill. glad he’s ok.
hope you feel MUCH better, and SOON!
July 28th, 2008
Yikes! What a weekend. I’m SO glad that the pill turned out to be no big deal – but how scary. I hope your throat starts to feel better. *HUG*
July 28th, 2008
I’m disappointed. With that much time on your hands I thought you’d surely work out a way to communicate using flatulence.
In all seriousness though, I’m glad Oliver is OK. Scary shit.
July 28th, 2008
Yikes. Why must they scare us so?
July 28th, 2008
First of all, “Fuck you, sore throat” made my day.
Second, holyshitdude. I am so sorry this happened to you. You must have been so scared. I’m so glad everything is OK. Interesting observations on his future, though. I bet you’ll look back at this moment many, many times.
July 28th, 2008
That’s my BIGGEST fear with Carter and my medication. I always worry that he’s gonna get his little hands on it and so fast that I wouldn’t even notice.
So glad that Oliver’s alright. I hope you’re feeling better!! *hugs*
July 28th, 2008
oh babe my heart just stopped. They are like lightening at the least opportune moments.
When I got home I also had a sore throat and it hurt so bad I was totally regretting making out with you.
July 28th, 2008
wow. i might have crapped my pants a little bit whilst reading this. i think i’m allowed to go home if i did.
July 28th, 2008
Fast and furious…just like a tornado. It’s the speed of most little kids and it’s why primary caregivers (most always women) are so completely exhausted at the end of the day. So glad the dose was too small to have any effect.
July 28th, 2008
First, I hope you feel better soon. We’ve had a wicked sore throat thingy going around here and it was not fun.
Second, my second, 10 month old Jacob, puts EVERYTHING in his mouth, all the time. And it’s impossible to keep a highly mobile baby in eye shot 100% of the time. When we were in SFO ready to leave San Francisco, I noticed he was munching on something he’d found on the floor of the airport. I pulled a half masticated pill out of his mouth. LORD only knows what the child was chewing on. I watched him with no mild degree of panic for the rest of the journey home. Fortunately, he seemed completely unaffected. But I can relate completely to your panic.
July 28th, 2008
dude i hope you are starting to at least feel a touch better. And Oliver, i’m so glad that he was perfectly okay…
July 28th, 2008
oh my word, love.
as if the sore throat wasn’t bad enough…
xo
July 28th, 2008
wow, there was a lot going in your life lately, huh?
It is SO SCARY when kids pull that shit … I turned around (this was months ago) and Gray had his mouth lovingly wrapped around the bottle of dishawashing detergent. Horrified, I gave him lots of water and waited … and he was fine. He only got whatever was on the outside of the cap. But, lesson learned, and even though those cabinets were childproofed, the chemicals all went higher than his reach. SCARY.
July 28th, 2008
Oh, so scary! Hope you feel better soon.
July 28th, 2008
My daughter recently asked why I have poison control on our phone list that is taped to the fridge. I said becuase when they were little we had to call…more than one time. She then informed me they were not little anymore and that i should take it down. One look at my boys and I knew the minute I do…I’ll be calling.
Glad your little man was ok. Sorry you were freaked the fuck out. I hate that feeling.
Hugs,
a.
July 28th, 2008
ohmigosh…my son happens quickly too. it’s boys, i think.
i’m so glad to hear everything was fine…and i hope you start feeling better soon!
July 28th, 2008
OMG terrifying! I am so gald it worked out okay….hope you are feeling back to yourself soon!
July 28th, 2008
We had a hard time with Rosey. AMAZING how many things are pink (and therefore look YUMMY to her) medicines, laundry soap, dressings, calamine lotion, wine…..
(HEY! That’s who’s been drinking my wine!)
Hope you feel better soon.
July 28th, 2008
Sometimes life is like a punch in the face.
Or throat, in your case.
I’m so sorry you’re feeling crappy, and that your boy gave you such a scare.
I hope you feel better soon.
(If you could swallow tea– Throat Coat works pretty well. I drink it by the gallon when my throat’s sore.)
July 28th, 2008
I think Oliver is secretly the The Flash. No?
Yikes.
July 28th, 2008
Dude, I am so sorry. I have enormous tonsils and live in perpetual terror of strep. Boys, they are fast. Glad Oliver is okay, but you certainly didn’t need that. Be kind to yourself.
July 28th, 2008
Good God! little ones keep you on your toes, yes?
July 28th, 2008
Whew. How scary. I am so glad he’s OK.
July 28th, 2008
Geez, that’s TERRIFYING.
so glad he’s okay, but is your heart back to beating normally yet?
and your throat? Take care, mama.
July 28th, 2008
Yeow. So glad that everything is OK. “First time calling Poison Control” is one for the baby book, though, right? :)
PS: GET BETTER SOON! You need to be able to talk.
July 28th, 2008
Ack, thank GOD he was OK. Is this the week of scares, er what??
July 28th, 2008
How scary! Moments like that…ugh…glad everyone’s ok, hope you’re feeling better.
July 28th, 2008
Yep. Boys. Like the time Jack fell over when he was 4 and bit right through his tongue. The tip was just hanging half off. Happened in the blink of an eye.
July 28th, 2008
Jesus, I’m terrified of one of my two nut jobs doing something like that one of these days. It’s only a matter of time. I’m glad he was OK….
Hope your throat is feeling better.
July 28th, 2008
Oh man! That’s so scary! My little Rascal puts EVERYTHING in his mouth, and the monkey has so many teeny tiny toys…. And, there’s always cat kibble, which Rascal LOVES…. It’s so hard….
I’m so glad he’s okay!
I hope you’re feeling better!
July 28th, 2008
(I’m so going to curse myself right here.) I’m all about safety and always remind my family is that the nature of an accident is often that you don’t anticipate it SO I TRY TO ANYWAY, REAL HARD. DOH? Didn’t I just hear myself. YOU CAN’T ANTICIPATE IT! Kinda like this moment…
July 28th, 2008
Oh, how scary. This is a good reminder that I must seriously get on the baby proofing. My boy is just starting to move at hyper speeds and the half-hearted outlet cover here/locked cabinet there strategy is probably inadequate for his new super-speed crawling.
Hope you feel better soon!
July 28th, 2008
I just realized that my last comment may have implied you could have prevented the pill-swallowing – when quite obviously it was one of those unanticipated things that occurs. Even with the most obsessive child-proofing, accidents will happen, they do happen. Kids can figure out a way to have freak accidents in empty padded rooms.
July 28th, 2008
oh, babe…. i hope you’re feeling better. ((hugs))
July 28th, 2008
I think this is one more of those “joys of motherhood” they are always going on about….
July 29th, 2008
Holy Hell. What a weekend. Huh?
He is fast as lightening.
And I feel like Henry Rollins Every frickin’ Morning!
July 29th, 2008
I have a theory. The secret to eternal youth is to not have kids. ;)
But how could we live without them? I’m glad Oliver was alright!
July 29th, 2008
A friend of mine has a story very much like that one. And guess what, she has a boy too? Those boys.
July 29th, 2008
just dropping by to say hey. i hope to be back online again soon! i miss you!! ♥ xoxxo
July 29th, 2008
Jesus – he really does move at lightening speed, eh?
I’m so sorry about the throat… that is truly crap! Hope you’re on the mend…
July 29th, 2008
Dear Oliver.
I know your Mother, and I love her dearly. She has farted on me and I have done up her bra. Need I say more.
So, my dearest most darling Oliver. Don’t put things like that in your mouth. I want your mother to live, simply because I am selfish and want to be in her company again.
xoxo crazyassmummacooper
July 29th, 2008
ok first, NO MORE TALKING!
but damn I know how you feel. something similar happened here and I thought i was going to hate myself for the rest of my life. thankfully, like you and yours, everything turned out fine. don’t you just hate that moment of pure panic?
July 29th, 2008
Scary. Hope you are doing better. I had a similar infection once and I remember it well. Swallowing felt like I was trying to swallow broken glass. So glad that Oliver is okay. Little stinker.
July 29th, 2008
I hope you feel better by now!
It’s terrifying what these short people can do in a flash when they want to, isn’t it? Makes my head spin.
Kim
July 29th, 2008
Yikes, how scary. Why do they have to be so fast? Scary.
Hope your throat is feeling better today. Love the visual. ;)
July 29th, 2008
ok, but why is your throat so dirty in the first place? that’s what i want to know.
July 29th, 2008
Get well soon. Oliver is quite a boy. I’m glad he is ok.
July 30th, 2008
Hope you’re feeling better. Oliver is too fast for sick people, tell him to slow down for his poor ole mom.
July 30th, 2008
Beautifully written and so funny! I relate to the lightning fast toddler, for my 2-year-old daughter can put something in her mouth, up her nose or in her ear as fast as you can say “tweezers!” I am glad he came out OK on the other end!
I am linking to your blog because I love it, and would appreciate it if you would check mine out and link back if you like it. Thanks!
July 30th, 2008
Oh god, the horror! I never had any of those kind of worries with the Boy, but I have a funny feeling that the Little Guy is going to be into everything. I hope you’ll have some advice for me.
Thank god Oliver’s okay.
July 30th, 2008
oh, jesus, dude.
holy fuck.
July 30th, 2008
That was scary! They ARE so freaking fast eh?
And btw – I find Henry Rollins strangely sexy though prob. way too intense for real life…
August 2nd, 2008
So f’n fast.
At about Oliver’s age, my Evan drank a bottle of nail polish remover. I saw him notice it on the bathroom counter and tried to beat him to it, but he got across the room and tossed it down before I had taken three steps.
I had to give him ipecac, which I didn’t have in the house. I drove to the nearest store and grabbed some. Thought I had the car in reverse (wrong!) and almost drove through the front windows.
He was fine after vomiting like the proverbial fire hose for half an hour.
That was NOT fast. The vomiting part was definitely not fast. But I’ve never gotten over how fast he got across that room and opened that bottle. Not to mention how fast he guzzled the stuff. He saw me, heard me yelling “No” and knew I’d take it from him when I got to him. Like a DVD on fast forward, I’ll tell you.
Hope your throat is better.
August 3rd, 2008
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