It's the opposite of Last Night a DJ Saved My Life

Last night my husband tried to kill me.

Not that he got all Chris Brown on me, he just tried to poison me. He intentionally tried to give me pills that were poison, people!

Shall I start form the beginning? Okay. I woke up Sunday morning with a sore throat, but not the fever or achiness that usually accompanies, say, Strep Throat. (I capitalize it because I respect it, yo.) So I stayed home all day and watched all my (terrible) DVR’d shows and knitted.

AND THAT’S WHEN HE TRIED TO KILL ME.

I’m kidding, it’s not. You’ll have to keep reading.

That night we went to Whole Foods and stocked up on everything that could possibly make me better. Kick Ass Immune, Emergen-C, Bio-K+ (in case the sore throat monster was calling my intestines home), Throat Coat Tea, etc. The works.

And it did. Work, that is. (That one was a stretch, I know.) I woke up Monday morning like the people in the Ny-Quil commercials. Sunshine, birds, you know. But by the afternoon, I was fading. I opted to skip yoga and take a nap. I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a Mack truck. Headache, sore throat, zero energy. So Dave made me some tea and brought me some pills.

“Here, take these.”

I raised an eyebrow. These were definitely not from Whole Foods.

“What are they?”

“They’re from my mom. They’ll help.” ((Dave’s mom gave us a bag of random medicine, I have no idea where she gets it. Maybe Mexico? And no offense to Dave’s mom nor the country of Mexico, but I generally avoid the bag of medicine.)

“Bring me the box.”

The box was all in Spanish. I read it to see if I could decipher any of the words.

“Babe, it’s ampicilina. Just take it.”

I kept reading, since I’m so trusting. It was made by Bayer, but the box was pretty nondescriptive. Didn’t describe how it would help my symptoms nor what symptoms it was even supposed to treat.

Then I read this:

Primero: Cualquier tipo de penicilina administrada por cualquier vía ofrece el peligro de desencadenar reacciones alérgicas.

Now I didn’t go to pharmacy school, let alone one in a Spanish-speaking country. Nor do I know what “desencadenar” means, but I’m pretty sure “penicilina” is penicillin.

And baby girl is allergic to penicillin.

“Dave! This is PENICILLIN!!”

“What?”

He rushes to the internet, reads.

“Yeah, don’t take that medicine.”

I didn’t. And I am alive today because I don’t trust my husband handing me random pills am super careful about what I put into my body.

DISCLAIMER: My husband would never, ever try to kill me and this whole post probably just made him sad. I’m pretty sure the whole episode scared the hell out of him.