See that image of the bottle up above? Looks innocent enough, right? Well...this little bottle was the catalyst for probably one of the biggest scares we've had as parents. Just a little preamble: of course we don't blame the bottle, or its contents, or the company, blah, blah, blah. When you strip everything else away, it was carelessness on our part, and now we've smartened up. Also, upon reading this, please don't remind us that we should keep cleaning items (green, botanical, or other) out of reach of children. We know, and whatever you say, I can guarantee we've already thought it and cursed ourselves as a result.
Monday morning started like any other. We could hear Henry jump out of bed and head over to wake Oliver. They laughed at each other, exchanged words and babbles, and there was the odd cry of annoyance. We brought them into our room, but Oliver smelled funny. Not the "I've-been-sleeping- in-a-cloth-diaper-filled-with-my-own-urine-for-the-past-11-hours" kind of funny, but kind of like our kitchen counter after I clean it. Ryan said it smelled like shampoo to him, so I chalked it up to my pregnancy-induced hypersensitive sense of smell. We came downstairs, ate breakfast, and Oliver was whining, and crying and rubbing his eyes (not like him at all, as you know). I went upstairs, tidied the boys' rooms, and found the spray bottle (see image above once again). I ran downstairs with it and asked Henry if he had sprayed Oliver. "Yes, I did. Why, Mama?" I don't even think I answered him. I brought Oliver upstairs, sat him in the bath, dumped water over his head repeatedly and washed his hair and face. Two hours later, we found ourselves in the ER. Oliver had gotten progressively more uncomfortable, his beautiful brown eyes became inflamed, red-rimmed, and bloodshot, and he was continually rubbing them. The triage team saw us immediately, contacted Poison Control (I had brought the bottle with us), and administered codeine to our little guy for pain. They performed a dye test (eye drops applied to freeze the eye balls, drops of dye then applied and the MD looks through a black-light type of contraption to evaluate corneal damage). He did not see any, prescribed us with antibiotic eye drops and we went home. This sounds all very matter-of-fact, but keep in mind that Oliver was screaming bloody murder to the point of hoarseness during the procedure, and I was trying to keep myself under control...waiting for CAS to walk through the door at any moment to interview me.
Later that day, Oliver wouldn't even open his eyes. He was walking into walls, not opening his eyes to eat (just hunting around with his mouth open waiting for us to place food in it) and shielding his already closed eyes from any sources of light (natural or artificial) with the crook of his arm. I took him to the Children's Hospital this time. The previous ER MD had faxed our file over, Poison Control was called down to interview me, and the nurses to a pH test of his tears, and another dye test. The result was very high acidity levels and they immediately performed an eye flush in each eye with 1 litre of solution. The worst thing I've ever seen my kids go through (well, maybe circumcision was worse, but this was a close second). Three nurses had to hold him down, and another held the IV bags over his eyes to administer the irrigation. They told me I could go for a walk as most parents don't like to stick around. I stayed and sang to him through my own choked sobs...not that he heard me through his own crying, but I like to think he knew I was there with him. Another pH test was done, and an hour later they let us go, and prescribed us an eye ointment (told us to discontinue the drops). One o
f the longest, most physically and mentally exhausting days of our lives. Over.
On the drive home, I kept wondering how I to reconcile with the fact that one of my children may have a severe visual impairment. Not only that, but that this impairment was as a result of one of our other children! How the &%$* do you make that okay in your mind?? We talked about it and decided that there's no way we could ever tell anyone what really happened. Henry was not at all malicious in his actions (he's 2 for crying out loud!!), and would have this guilt for the rest of his life, and Oliver would likely harbour some resentment toward his brother for his entire life. Not to mention judgement from the rest of the family. Ryan pulled me back to reality by saying that we didn't need to think about any of that.
The ER doctors phoned us at home the next day to see how Oliver was faring, and that the referral had been made to pediatric ophthalmology, and that we'd have an appointment within 48 hours. Which brings us to today. Oliver was given another dye test, and then was given drops to dilate his pupils so that they could explore any long-term damage or scarring, as well as a full vision test. Everything went extremely well....no issues! No impairments! No damage! No scarring! Perfect vision! The head ophthalmologist said that the real difference between him being okay and him having an ocular impairment might have been that his eyes were rinsed right away at home. Needless to say (but I will anyway) , we've been in a state of pure bliss since this afternoon. So happy, so relieved, so thankful! Friends and family: you guys have been an amazing support through all of this since Monday....thank you!
As a final thought, not once did any of the medical or admin staff at either ER site, or the pediatric ophthalmology clinic finger point, or accuse us of bad parenting. In fact, 2 of the MDs shared personal anecdotes about similar situations with their own (now grown) children. Additionally, one of my best friends who, IMO, is brilliant, and she shared a story about her toddler who got into some cleaning solution recently as well. I guess it really only takes a split second, one careless decision, whatever - to turn turn your world upside-down. When you know better, you do better. We're trying...
