Romanticizer and Geek-in-Residence

poisoncontrol-by Lauren

I know, it’s a pretty odd thing to rave about.  But listen, I am RAVING about this service.  I’ve called it twice.  Once a couple years ago when my son accidentally bit off a chunk of a foam ball and swallowed it–and once again last week, when I oh-so-naively sat in some grass next to a Kwik-fill gas station (don’t ask) that had been treated THAT morning with pesticides.  There were little yellow flags marking the perimeter of the area saying ‘do not enter’ with a little picture of a person and a kid and a dog with a big cross-out circle over them.  Really heartening to see after I had sat my pregnant-ass down in the stuff and casually plucked at the grass stems with my bare hands.





dramatic re-enactment

dramatic re-enactment

After calling a bunch of unhelpful numbers, like the pesticide company’s 1-800 number, and my OBGYN (“I’ll put a message into a nurse and they should get back to you soon”), I remembered Poison Control.  When I called, the phone was immediately answered.  By a goddess. of knowledge.  And professionalism. And soothingness (not a word but should be). She calmly asked me questions, then walked me through what I should do (which was to go change out of my clothes and shower, making sure to lather up twice).  She didn’t rush me, seemed happy to discuss the issue for as long as I wanted, and made me feel a million times better.  This is VERY unlike many other services I’ve called (yep, police, 9-1-1, obygn and pediatrician on-call folks…y’all basically suck in comparison.  Sorry.)

So…if you’re ever legitimately freaked about something you ate, sniffed, or, you know, lounged around in, please don’t hesitate to call 1-800-222-1222.