Morning routine was chaotic as usual. Two A.D.D. boys running around with the dogs, one without pants, and the other making farting noises with his armpits. Pretty typical, (before we get meds in our system). So, as i was trying not to yell at them, (i'm working on that), i set my medicine on the counter, and proceed to get a glass of water. i turned around to take it, and it was missing. My blood went cold.
"Billie, did you take your medicine this morning?" i asked.
"Yeah mom." he replied nonchalantly.
"Billie, i had my pill right here, and it's gone. Did you take mine?" i was starting to panic.
His face said it all. "i thought it was mine." he said meekly. A look of fear took over his face.
Deep down, i have been nervous one day this would happen. His pills and mine are the exact same size, his are blue and white, and mine are blue and green. But with manufacture always changing colors and looks, we have gotten used to the pills changing colors occasionally.
Here's where could save face, and tell you i calmly handle the situation. But to keep things honest i wont. i FREAKED OUT!
i turned to my phone and looked up children reactions to the medication. immediately it pops up that there have been deaths to children under 15 on this medication. (My son is almost 12). Don't you just love the internet, (insert eye roll here).
i then told my son to try and make himself throw up. So while he is gaging in the bathroom, i call my friend who is an ER nurse. She looks up reactions, and sees that he is most likely not on deaths door step, but there may be side effects.
The whole time the older one is gaging, and i'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off. My younger son, (7 years old), is whimper and crying thinking his brothers dying.
Here's where i hang my head in shame. Did i console him? Comfort him? Tell him everything is going to be ok? No, i yelled at him to stop because it wasn't helping the situation. My poor sweet sensitive son, caring about his brother, but my emotions couldn't handle his.
So, after trying to throw up, (but to no avail), calling nurse, doctor, and poison control, we survived with just dizziness, tired, and tummy ache. Just had to keep him home to watch him.
Some might say i did everything right. But i didn't. After the dust settled, i realized with a broken heart that i never once prayed. i didn't ask Gods protection, or guidance, or direction for the situation. i "handled it". Me. Myself, and i. And how did that work for me? Panic and fear ruled most of the day. Neither of those emotions from the Lord.
it says in Jeremiah 29:12 "Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and i will listen to you." He is always, always listening. He has the best answer, and He should be the one we run to first, not the internet, or our friends.