Hospital Visit #26,357,660

So we are home. Again.

Eleanor had a rough couple of days. She was good on Saturday, but that night she slept poorly. Sunday was a "duck and cover" kind of day. Just make her happy, just get through. She was very fussy about food and drink and that night she barely slept at all. Monday morning was the same. She had one mini-nap at 7am (she woke before 4) and again in the carrier when I was walking the dog. We muscled through her physio, as she was so cranky, and I put her down for a proper nap before her lunch.

And she slept.

And slept.

And slept.

Girlfriend slept for 3&1/2 hours!!

Kris was home by this point and quite worried (God love him, he's ALWAYS worried!), so we decided to wake her up. At first she didn't stir, so Kris tried to sit her up. Her eyes flew WIDE open and she resisted, but didn't make a sound. She couldn't really sit, but who could on immediate wake-up? Kris picked her up and she seemed to be swinging in circles from her waist. "Where's daddy?" I asked. She swung her arm to point - there. "Where's Atia?" swing-point - there. Her bug eyes rolled around in her head. Okay... So far, so... Something?

We took her into the kitchen and gave her a sippy cup of Pediasure since she missed lunch and was acting kind of nuts. She knocked it back quickly and we gave her a cookie to see if it was a blood sugar thing. I put her on the floor in the living room and she was able to do her dive-roll-sit up maneuver, but it wasn't very fluid and she was wobbly when she sat. I called the oncology clinic as she munched her cookie and she continued her drunken sailor routine. The oncology nurse put me on hold to confer with the endocrine nurse and they both thought it was best to get her blood work checked and also her blood sugar. It was too late to go to the clinic, so we'd have to go through emerg. Uggggggghhhhhh...

Eleanor continued to drunkly mash her cookie into her face, the carpet and anywhere else that pleased her while we came up with a plan. I would drive her out alone because Kris was up all night and still fighting off a cold. The hospital is no place for someone like that. I gathered a few things in case we had to stay overnight (not our first rodeo!) and went out to the car. Eleanor was safely strapped in so I kissed Kris goodbye and drove down the street.

Then it all went wrong.

By the time we had reached the main road, she was asleep again. I paused at the stop sign to clap my hands, shake her foot but she barely stirred. I continued down Fairfield at a snails pace. The speed limit is 30km/h, which is rarely adhered to, but today there was a long line of cars trucking along at 30. I could feel the panic rising in me, starting with my arms. It alw. Red light at Cook street. I reached for my phone and found my brother's number. I was right by his place. He could ride in the back and keep her awake. I looked back at her, slumped over and drooling Pediapred on her car seat straps.

What do I do? I can't go back - I'll lose too much time. I can't have Gavin assume responsibility for this, and what if he's not ready to leave right this second? I can't wait! I pulled over and smashed my indicator, windshield wipers and finally my hazard lights. Then I did the most cowardly-brave thing I have ever done; I called 9-11.

This part is very difficult for me to write. I have very mixed emotions about my actions.

As we waited for the bus to arrive, she opened her eyes and gripped my finger hard. She stayed perfectly still and stared at me as if she was trying to focus, to stop whatever was happening to her. I heard the sirens and my heart sank. They were coming for us. What a weird feeling. The police were the first to arrive and were so calming and helpful. The ambulance was quick to follow and my car was surrounded by emergency response vehicles. It must have been quite a sight and a big hassle to get around, but I only realize that in hindsight. At the time I could only think of Eleanor. One of the paramedics took her out of the car seat and carried her into the bus. I saw her through their eyes, and she was a mess. Not only did she have big bags under her eyes and was slumped like a sack of potatoes, she was also was covered in chocolate cookie and Pediasure.

Once they had secured her in the ambulance, we set off towards the hospital. One of the police officers had graciously offered to drive my car, which was incredible. We made a pit stop with another ambulance to pick up another paramedic. He climbed into the bus and they began their assessment. They checked her vitals, which she hated, and started to perk up. Once they finished with the saturation monitor, she smiled at them, and the sirens were turned off and we cruised the rest of the way. Her sats were good, her blood sugar was fine and she wasn't labouring to breathe. By the time we got to the hospital, she was still far from normal, but she was in much better shape. They drew blood and confirmed that she was dehydrated and her sodium low while her potassium was high. She takes a pill to combat that from happening, but if she was dry it may have been too hard to regulate. They hooked her up to an IV and we waited.

The paediatrician arrived and said that we would be staying overnight. I figured as much. High potassium is very taxing on the heart, and because she has already had a cardiac episode, they have to be very careful with her. At this point, I was feeling really relaxed. She was feeling better, looking better and everything seemed to be moving in the right direction. They gave her a solu-cortef injection (emergency steroid - kind of like an epi-pen for people with allergies) just to be sure and continued her fluids overnight. The rest of the hospital stay went really smoothly. Her midnight blood work came back much improved so they were happy to let us go by noon the next day, so long as she was eating and drinking. She devoured her gross hospital food lunch and we were on our way home!

I have very conflicting feelings about calling for help. I was told explicitly DO NOT WAIT and CALL 9-11 after her last adrenal crisis, but because this wasn't technically an adrenal crisis, I feel a bit weird. It's just hard to wrestle in my mind. And when I found out I will be getting a bill for it, well, that makes me feel all the worse! She was heading towards a crisis, so I think I did the right thing. But aside from the ambulance ride, it was a really uneventful period. They figured she was dehydrated as a result of teething and sudden heat and she might have a cold (her nose was running a lot). Nothing serious, but I wonder how many of these little hiccups we will have in the future. She is a very complicated little girl!