POISON CONTROL CENTER
THE FASCINATING, CRUCIAL WORK OF A
By JOHN METCALFE
The Mercury News (TNS)
At the California Poison Control System in San Francisco, a call has just come in from a mother whose toddler accidentally drank a stain remover called “Grandma’s Secret.”
“I’m not sure how much she had and whether I should take her to the hospital,” the mom says. “She’s acting like her normal self, but she has her ‘disgusted face’ on.”
“Got it,” says the operator. “So, most stain removers aren’t a problem – they’re detergent-based. With ingestion, mostly what you’ll see are mild effects, like an upset stomach or brief gagging or vomiting. Typically, the remedy is you wash out their mouth, give them some water or juice, and they’ll be absolutely fine.” Just like that, crisis averted. It’s all in a day’s work for the poison center’s operators, the specially trained physicians, pharmacists and nurses at the Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center. Somebody comes into contact with something they shouldn’t, and a cry for help comes into the center’s 24/7 hotline (1-800-222-1222).
The San Francisco office is one of four in California, with others in Sacramento, San Diego and the Fresno/Madera area. Together, they handle about 235,500 cases per year – roughly 650 a day or one every two minutes – involving everything from drug overdoses to rattlesnake bites, toxic plants and weirder things.
Californians poison themselves in ways that generally follow nationwide trends. In 2022, most poisoning cases in America involved (in order) painkillers, household cleaners, antidepressants, cosmetics and personal care products, with rising numbers for exposure to fentanyl and Delta-8 THC, a compound found in cannabis. Some 47 percent of those cases involved children, with those ages 3 and under accounting for a whopping 35 percent of all cases.
It’s important parents keep everything locked up because children can get into anything, says toxicology management specialist Ting Regelman. About once a month, there’s a case involving a child who ate a button battery, the type that powers small devices like car key fobs.
“They get stuck in the esophagus and are still inducing current,” says Regelman. “If you want to do an experiment at home, put one of those button batteries on a piece of ham and leave it for a few hours. You’ll see it’s eating through it – that’s why we send them to the hospital.”
“People call with all sorts of questions,” says managing director Raymond Ho. Much of it is drug-related – painkiller overdoses, for example, vomiting from psychedelic mushrooms or hallucinating from jimsonweed, made infamous in Hunter S. Thompson’s “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” Tylenol overdoses are a big problem, and ever since cannabis was legalized, there are more and more calls about children getting into mommy’s gummies.
Then there are the Black Widow bites, Ivermectin and other drugs meant for large animals and the spicy “One Chip Challenge” (the hotline advises ice chips and Mylanta for that one).
“This guy once called and said he swallowed a bullet,” says Ho. “He was worried the bullet would explode in his stomach. I told him, ‘That’s not going to happen, but there is lead in the bullet, and you can actually die from lead poisoning.’” The next phone call is from a hospital about a 13-year-old patient who swallowed 20 magnesium supplement tablets. Her vitals look fine, but there’s another potential issue.
“It sounds like this was some kind of self-harm gesture?” the operator asks.
“Yeah, we put her in a 5150 hold,” says the medical worker, referring to involuntary psychiatric hospitalization. The operator advises pursuing “full labs” to see what else she might have taken.
Dealing with self-harm is part of the job. “We have suicidal patients calling and asking, ‘How much can I take of this drug, so I can kill myself?’” says Ho. “Of course, we don’t give that information out.”
In a conference room adorned with an “Arizona Rattlesnakes: Creatures of Mystery and Myth” poster, residents and medical students gather to discuss the previous day’s cases with Timur Durrani, the poison center’s assistant medical director.
Among those cases: a man in his 60s who presented with diffuse pulmonary nodules in his lungs. It turns out, he’s a present-day gold miner. The Gold Rush may be long over, but there are still hobbyists hunting for flakes or nuggets using a process that involves heating mercury – and hot mercury releases toxic, colorless fumes.
“Inhaling mercury can cause some interstitial and acute injury,” says Durrani. “If he’s at home cooking mercury, then the question is, who does he share the home with? If there are kids there, or if they’re in an apartment that has shared ventilation with other apartments, you have to notify the health department about mercury contamination, which is expensive and not fun.”
Next up is a woman who came to the ER with vomiting and auditory hallucinations. She could be a late-presenting case of Tylenol poisoning. But she also has high iron levels, which might indicate an overdose of elemental-iron supplements.
“When you have iron sitting in someone’s stomach, it’s corrosive to the point where it not only is eating through their gut, but getting into their bloodstream, so you see liver failure,” says Durrani. “Usually what happens is nausea and vomiting, and blood coming out of both ends.”
Back in the call center, a mother is on the line describing how her kid just ate a tube of toothpaste.
“A small amount of fluoride isn’t going to hurt her,” the operator reassures the anxious mother. “But she can have an upset tummy. What you can do to help is give her some milk.”
There’s no doubt that hotline work is important, but aiding a parent in crisis is one of the most satisfying aspects of the work.
“They call, almost frantic,” says Regelman. “Then you talk with them, and you can almost hear them sobbing with relief. I find that to be the most rewarding part of the job.”
If you or someone you know is struggling with feelings of depression or suicidal thoughts, the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline offers free, round-the-clock support, information and resources for help. Call or text the lifeline at 988, or see the 988lifeline.org website, where chat is available.
Raymond Ho, managing director of the San Francisco division of the California Poison Control System, oversees the hotline personnel working at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center on Oct. 17.
Karl Mondon / Bay Area News Group / TNS