In retrospect, it's really easy to see the signs. For the last 2 weeks, our daughter (N) had been tired a lot. Sleepy and super low energy. Her appetite dropped right off too. There were even a couple of nights she put herself to bed early, and she was always cold.
She also started drinking a lot more water. Instead of just a cup before bed, she would have two or three, and then be up a couple of times at night to pee. The getting up to pee was new, but made sense due to the water she was drinking. We didn't think much about it.
The first weekend in March, she was really low energy. I'd ask her what was wrong, but she said nothing was. I was wondering if she was getting sick or if it was hormones. Her face looked thinner, and I was thinking growth spurt was coming. The main living areas of our home were getting painted, and things were chaotic, and I thought she maybe was just processing her feelings quietly. But by Thursday, something was wrong. She woke up that morning extremely nauseated, and started throwing up. Both my husband and I had things that tied us up that day, so we juggled her care and kept her home from school. By evening, she was still feeling sick, and was barely keeping water down. It presented like an icky stomach bug.
By 2am Friday morning, her breathing got really…strange. I woke up to what sounded like her gasping for air, or dramatically sighing with each breath. She needed to throw up, but there was nothing happening. Seeing we had a long stretch to morning ahead, I moved her sister into my bedroom, and tried to sleep in the girls room with N, coaching her on slowing her breathing.
At 7am, it was increasingly clear we needed medical help. My husband and I got our other two children out the door to school, and I called the provincial health line, staffed by nurses. I explained what was going on, and the nurse started asking me questions. Once she asked me what my daughter's breath smelled like, I said "these are diabetes questions, she doesn't have diabetes". Famous last words. The nurse strongly advised me to get her into the hospital right away.
By now, I had scoped out waiting times at the area hospitals, and decided to go to the closest urgent care centre. It was closest to the house, and would have a shorter wait time, because she was just dehydrated, right?
Getting N out the door to leave was an ordeal. By now, she was mumbling incoherently, and was struggling to put on her own shirt. I dressed her, put her in the back of the van, and handed her a cup of juice (yes, juice, what did I know?). The 10 minute drive to urgent care felt like forever, as I checked her in the rearview mirror, and she looked worse by the minute.
Once we got to urgent care, I had to half carry her into the facility. There was a short line up, and I had her sit while I waited. A woman behind me noticed how sick she looked, and passive-agressively said that the woman in front of me should let me go ahead. It was kind of funny, but I said to the woman behind me that we don't know why anyone is here, and we shouldn't assume anyone needs care less than others. However, once the triage nurse took one look at N, she fast tracked us into the back to be seen.
That's when everything moved fast.
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