This has taken me over a year to fess up but wandering
around the river at Kyneton this morning has pricked my conscience and I have
swallowed my pride... forgive me my
brothers for I have partaken... but hey
it’s a serious warning.
It started really well, I had been in town and scored a
great 60’s bookcase at Joel’s and found the right flooring for the new “don’t
call it a studio” studio and also got quite a few urgent jobs done. So when
Diane greeted me with the welcome “do you want a coffee? “ when I got home, my rampant enthusiasm was
further stoked. Because she had just had one, she presented me with the full
double dose long espresso from the new machine, just roasted beans great fuel.
Over the preceding months walks along the river revealed
some great plants. Blackberries, feral fruit trees all sorts of wild forrageable
foods? Among these we also saw great
flushes of a very attractive umbriferous plant that Diane had called wild
parsnip. After my coffee I noticed that the small self sown ‘wild parsnip” that
I had been watching in the vegie garden had grown considerably and I picked it.
It had a long straight root a bit like salsify or indeed parsnip.
I tasted it and it had a stringy outer layer
but the inner root was delightfully sweet and really moreish delicious. Light bulbs went
off... hey a new ingredient in such abundance that it will surely inflame the
neophilic foodie culture so “on point” for these wild food days.
Intrigued as to why no one else in say, Northcote, Denmark
or Brooklyn had promoted this discovery I went to the culinary books in the shed and it all started to go pear shaped
very quickly. Apparently the more common name for this “wild parsnip” is Poison
Hemlock. Now this did not look really good as I had eaten a good couple of
inches of the inside of the core root. I quickly consulted the online oracles
and it was really looking a bit serious.
I rang the poisons department hot line and a very calm young
man after about 6 key identifying questions suggested that I grab the plant and
get my arse off to the hospital as soon as possible. On arrival at the Kyneton hospital at the emergency
department they were already getting the equipment ready to get me hooked up to
various beeping machines in the ambulance that was waiting with doors open. Mr
Poisons Department had already rung the hospital and I was quickly put on a
cardiogram and a drip input was poked into my arm. With thick rubber gloves
they examined the ‘Parsnip’ and placed it in a labelled bag and very quickly I
was on my way to Royal Melbourne Hospital. The ambulance was apparently better
equipped to deal with what might eventuate in the next 60 minutes than the
emergency dept of the hospital.
Now those of you who know me will attest to my wowser like
boring stance on wild fungi and indiscriminate foraging.
The Do Not Taste Without Expert Identification sermon that I
always sprout has over the years led to my withdrawing from hosting fungi
forays in the dread of someone later innocently tasting a toxic fungus or worse
serving one in a restaurant. So now
flat out and wired up in the ambulance I am fantasizing the twitter
conversations and Facebook comments and such tut tutting after the death
notices appear....
But clearly it did not kill me but the ride down to town was
full of apprehension and I might say a little humour.
The ambos had forgiven me for dragging them off the beat
with my stupidity and were quite engaged as they had never had a case of
hemlock poisoning before. So iPads came out and a constant communication was
being kept with the emergency dept in Melbourne. I had my phone so I was also
getting an education in Hemlock pharmacology. We went through the
identification with some detail. Yes hollow stem, yes all the colours habitat etc matched perfectly We had the Socrates jokes but my toes and other extremities had not started to lose feeling and I was apart
from being pissed off that I had been so careless feeling OK. . All bodily functions were
beeping normally. We all found from
various sources that eating the root was one of the most potent parts. That did nothing for my well being but also nothing to the beeps on the monitors. As the interest waned in my demise the ambos explained to me in detail of why the graffiti for better conditions was scrawled all
over the van and I got a good education on the shit conditions they had to work
with. Now that at least has thankfully been fixed. But at the time made me feel even more guilty. Then on a legit medical website we saw that one
of the suggested antidotes to Hemlock poisoning was caffeine... and I started
to feel a little better. But on arrival
at emergency the registrar grabbed my bag of ‘wild parsnips’ whisked me into a
cubicle and hooked me up to more wires. I told him of the big double dose of
caffeine I had ingested and he just looked at me with bemusement Hmm 2 inches
of root you say? Shakes head. After a
further hour of observation I was evicted from the cubicle into the hall and
told to let them know if I was feeling wonky. Then after a further 2 hours I
was released just in time to catch the last train back to Kyneton. I had survived eating poison hemlock and yes it did taste OK. Thanks RMH. So when you
see the beautiful flushes of this ubiquitous weed all along the Campaspe, the
Barwon or in your vegie beds take care.
It really is everywhere and possibly we should be more alerted to its dangers. Apparently
children using the hollow stalks for pea shooters have been poisoned and quail
and other game birds [that it does not affect] that have eaten the seeds can
also be poisonous.
So another one for the sermon.
1 comment:
Great story, George,with a happy ending.
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