Don’t Eat the Crackers

Last night I got the phone call that no mother wants to get. I picked up the phone:

--Hello?

--Sister Dunn, this is Brother So-and-so. We have a situation here involving Seth. He’s fine. But the paramedics are here…

And so it went from there. I guess the scouts had been cleaning out the Boy Scout shed and come across some MREs in there. The scout master asked “Who wants some crackers?” A couple of the (always-hungry) boys opened the packages up and started to chow down, but unfortunately what they thought were the crackers turned out to be solid fuel tablets for heating the MREs. As soon as the mistake was realized the scout leaders acted and called the paramedics who arrived shortly and then spoke with poison control who advised that the boys be taken to the ER for observation.

(Pictures taken on the scout master’s blackberry)

I was at home. My friend had taken the boys for me since she had a meeting at church and David was going to be at work late. When I got the phone call I dropped the two little boys off at the neighbors’ and then drove to David’s work to pick him up and we went to the hospital together. Seth was waiting in the ER waiting room when we got there with the scout master. We were only there a few minutes before they took us and the other boy’s family back and started hooking the boys up to machines to monitor their heart rate, pulse, blood pressure and blood oxygen levels. They came and took blood and then they told us that they would have to keep the boys there for another 4 to 6 hours for observation.

The ER doctor said that what they ate basically amounted to the same thing as bad moonshine. They needed to observe the boys to make sure they didn’t become acidotic. Neither of the boys ever said they felt bad. I wondered why they didn’t just spit it out when they ate it. You’d think it would taste nasty, but when we asked them what it did taste like they said “chalky but not bad”. The scout master said that’s probably what the actual crackers tasted like as well.

One of the ironies of the whole thing is that Seth and this other boy are probably two of the quietest, least likely to cause trouble kids in the whole troop. Of course they are probably two of the kids who are always hungry too—the tall, skinny kind that often come with a hollow leg.

Once we felt reasonably certain that the boys were fine and they assured us that they felt alright we were able to relax and laugh and joke a bit. The scout master was really great and went and got burgers and fries for the boys and milkshakes for everyone. I know he must have felt bad but it could have happened to anyone so we weren’t upset. It’s just part of life. Sometimes you have adventures that maybe you didn’t really want but they turn out okay. They just become war stories—another notch on your belt— “I ate poison and lived to tell about it”. You can laugh about these experiences because the outcome was good but quietly you are just so thankful that things didn’t go the other way.

I sent David home to get the other boys and go to bed (he had gotten up really early that morning) and eventually Seth was able to get some sleep. I sat and visited with the other parent that was there and watched snippets of ESPN. At around 1:30 am (or somewhere in there—I was honestly too tired to remember at that point) the nurses came in and drew more blood and about quarter after 2 they told us that the boys could be discharged. Forrest the RN (no really—that was his name) brought in a couple of papers we had to sign then we went and paid our co-pays and headed home to bed.

Seth and I both slept in this morning. He got a doctor’s excuse to miss school today which is good because I don’t know how much he would have gotten out of classes today after being up so late and being so exhausted today. It’s been nice having him home today. I’m just really glad that he is okay.