Speeding for Help

Panic took over. My dad grabbed Jacob and rushed to the yellow station wagon, strapped him in the front seat of the car then did his best to remain calm. At home, my mom sobbed hysterically while she rocked me in the chair, wondering what the outcome would be that night.

Speeding to 85, the station wagon swerved on the freeway, passing every car that came in its way, Jacob lolled from side-to-side, nearly losing consciousness at times. Flashers on, driving with wild abandon, my dad prayed that a police would pull him over, see the direness of the situation and direct him to a hospital. My dad had no idea where a close hospital was, the nearest one where I had had my cardiac surgeries was more than a half-hour away. And there was no time.

Finally, a woman pulled up next to my dad, signaled that he roll down his window. He thought maybe he could yell loud enough to ask if she knew where a hospital was. She shouted from her rolled down window, "Your flashers are on!"

My dad, frustrated, sped off in hopes that he would somehow find signs for a hospital.

Miraculously, he made it to a nearby hospital, only due to Divine Intervention.

By this point Jacob was flopping around. My dad pulled up to the emergency entrance, grabbed his son, and raced through the doors yelling for help. Immediately taken back, the nurses rammed tubes down the toddler's throat, pumping his stomach full of charcoal to stop the aspirin from absorbing. Following that procedure, they pumped him with Ipecac to induce vomiting. After he began to throw-up the contents in his stomach, the nurses then pumped out anything that was left.

They admitted him overnight as to continuously check vitals and make sure that he was stable and free of any lingering effects from the ordeal.

Released at six the next morning, my dad drove home with Jacob doing well.

My mom later said that if she had not seen the pill bottle, she would have placed Jacob in his room for his nap and he never would have woken up. A sickening thought for any mother, even to this day.

Later that week, a lockbox with a bow was left by the front door, and my mom and dad made sure that all medicine bottles were locked away, out of the reach of children.