You remember The Swarm right? Well it turns out that it wasn't even a significant part of the new lucky.
The last 48 hours have been like a living nightmare. The worst in a long, long time.
I'd go so far to say that these past few days have been so terrifyingly horrid you may just want to skip this post altogether.
*NOTE* - Post particularly unsuitable for the faint hearted.
It started at lunchtime on Thursday when Smidge seemed a little feverish. Determined not to be deemed an over anxious Mum, I held back on the usual A&E shenanigans and put my trust in to the local G.P surgery.
Oh why did I do that?
Just hours after making the call to the surgery, Smidge struck me as really quite pale so I asked One -day Hubby to take her to the hospital to be re-assessed.
But almost as soon as they had set off, I started to feel this deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was so horribly profound, I simply couldn't ignore it. Grabbing my coat and keys I ran out to the car but before I had even turned the key in the lock my mobile rang, it was of course One-day Hubby.
In a trying-to-be calm but somewhat alarmed voice, One-day Hubby told me that he had had to stop the car and call an ambulance for Smidge whilst driving to the hospital.
Glancing in his rear view mirror he had seen an extremely pale and deteriorating Smidge looking sicker than sick. She was suffering what we now know to have been complex febrile convulsions.
Mister G and I raced down to A&E in the car. On the way we were silent apart from Mr. G reassuringly putting his hand over mine and gently telling me that everything would be okay.
Knowing our way around A&E far too well, we ignored the usual entry procedure, by passing the receptionists and cutting through the assessment rooms in an attempt to find Smidge.
After skimming the Minors and majors departments I raced through to resus feeling the panic and not knowing what on earth to think or do.
A call to One-day hubby told me that the ambulance staff were trying to cannulate Smidge En route. Ever tried cannulating an ex prem baby in a moving vehicle? Good luck I thought.
What seemed like an eternity later, an uncannulated Smidge was wheeled in to resus looking pale and unresponsive, however, over the course of the next few hours she settled right down.
The doctor was pleased to see that, using the art of paper towel throwing, we were able to raise a brief smile out of our adorable baby girl. They referred her over to the children's ward for further observation.
Grandma came to collect Mister G and I told One-day Hubby to go and get some rest
'Theres a room you can use down the hall' I told him 'I can stay with Smidge'
Picking up a coffee stained copy of take a break, I settled myself in to the put- me- up bed in the corner. A distraction is what I need I thought, turning the pages of my trash mag.
But a side ways glance over to Smidge's prison cot had me sitting bolt up right in a panic. Smidge was pale again and shaking uncontrollably.
I ran out to the hall and told the nurse to come quickly 'I think Smidge is fitting' I told them.
The nurse entered the cubicle followed by a doctor, I grabbed the oxygen supply off the wall and put it to Smidges face before racing down the corridor to retrieve One- day Hubby who quickly came back to the room.
There were now several people in the room giving Smidge oral drugs to try to stop the fits but the fits were not subsiding.
The registrar doctor from A&E appeared and nurses were getting cannula's ready and starting up the fluids, Once again broad range intravenous antibiotics were being drawn up.
Out side the room Mummy-bot took over as she watched every available doctor and nurse try to stop Smidge's lengthy fit.
Then these words came ..'put out an arrest call please'
At this point even Mummy-bot could not look on any longer, thank goodness One-day hubby was there soothing the oblivious Smidge.
Mummy-bot paced the hospital corridors muttering 'no...no, no, no,' to nobody in particular but not a singular doctor or nurse could stop to reassure her because they were all trying to stabilise Smidge and stop her from fitting.
Every now and then Mummy-bot would sneak a peak through the cubicle window seeking data that would activate positive downloads. But the timer ran out and the system redirected her to another location.
Walking the hospital corridors Mummy-bot searched around for an identifiable source. She located a friendly looking nurse who walked her back to the scene. On the way back she was trying to reassure Mummy-bot that febrile convulsions are quite common and the doctors would soon have it under control but Mummy-bot just rambled at her that it didn't look very under control, not very under control at all.
Back on the scene, more people had arrived, including a consultant from intensive care. The ventilator machine was placed on stand by and Mummy-bot observed the intubation tubes lined up looking like candies in a sweet shop.
The nurse that Mummy-bot had located from the the alternative location had some how got integrated in to the medical activity and once again Mummy-bot was forced to intermittently observe.
After twenty five minutes of fitting, the team managed to stop the fits and a very pale, vacant looking Smidge lay across the cot looking exhausted, intoxicated with numerous IV drugs.
The head doctor explained that one of the IV drugs had successfully stopped the fitting and that it was anticipated that Smidge will be drowsy and vacant for several hours.
The next few hours were filled with I.V medicines. There were fluids, anti convalescents, antibiotic, and anti viral drugs. They gave Smidge everything there was to give.
Soon after,the doctors explained that Smidge had shown some unique signs before and during the fit and they wanted to fully investigate to rule out some very particular problems. A C.T scan was ordered and lumber puncture test to see if they could get to the bottom of what has caused the seizures.
The results were inconclusive and although Smidge has improved greatly she remains very poorly in hospital.
Please send her your prayers.