Most mushrooms are delicious, but some can kill you. Thankfully, the one my grandmother took a bite of, didn’t kill her; it just made for an ‘interesting’ night.
It all started when my great uncle found a mushroom out in the yard. He brought it in to show to everyone and my great-grandmother and my grandmother both decided to take a bite about the size of the tip of your pinky, even though they had no clue what it was. Well, my mom and grandmother had just left my great-grandmother’s house when my grandmother told my mom to stop at a nearby convenience store. That was when the first round came. After puking and have some less than solid bowl activity, my grandmother got back in the car, and her and my mom headed off for the rest of the hour and forty-five-minute trip.
Less than thirty minutes later, my grandmother told my mom to pull over again. This next gas station stop wasn’t nearly so dignified. My grandmother went in while my mom waited in the car. Fifteen minutes later, my grandmother still hadn’t surfaced, so my mom went in to check on her.
“Are you alright?” my mom asked.
“Dawn, I’m gonna need you to go get me some pants,” my grandmother replied.
Since my grandmother was still using the facilities, my mom got back in her car and drove to a pay phone so she could call my great-grandmother. Their conversation went something like this.
“Granny, are you alright?” my mom questioned.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” my great-grandmother replied.
“Oh okay, I was just trying to figure out if the mushroom is what made my mom sick.”
“Oh is she sick too? Yeah, I’ve been getting sick.”
So my mom drove back to the gas station to get my grandmother, who slipped her putrid pants back on, and then headed back towards my great-grandmother’s house. My mom spent the drive chastising her mother and violently praying.
When they arrived, they went into the house, my mom gave my grandmother five minutes to bathe and change, and then called the ambulance. When the EMS finally arrived, the paramedic wasn’t in any hurry, but eventually, they left my great-grandmother’s house with both mushroom eaters.
After spending a few hours in the hospital and receiving adamant instructions not to eat anything solid, the two were discharged. My mom and grandmother were driving to my mom’s house when my grandmother told my mom that she felt like she needed some salt. Since nothing was open that late, they once again stopped at a convenience store, and my grandmother went in, thinking that they might sell some broth. When she came back out to the car she had saltines.
“You can’t eat those!” my mom exclaimed.
“I’ll just lick the salt off,” my grandmother replied.
Needless to say, a few minutes later she started nibbling on the cracker. After snatching the cracker out of my grandmother’s hand, my mom proceeded to tell her mom just how stupid she had been for the rest of their drive.
Years later, this story still comes up every once in a while, and always results in a reliving of the ‘wild’ night. So now I know, don’t eat the mushrooms.