I can hear her crying from the lounge room and when I go to her 

she tells me she feels ‘funny’.

If it’s one thing I’ve learnt in the history of Ivy,

it’s that you should always listen when she says that

and also that ‘funny’ often means sick.

She has been quiet tonight, I think as I grab the ice cream container

that I reserve for emergencies and late night stomach bug presentations.

Why is that, I wonder - 

that vomiting often starts late at night or in the wee hours of the morning.

I’m thankful for that bucket though because the girl needs it minutes later.

She vomits so violently that her nasogastric tube comes up 

through her mouth

but still attached via her nose,

like a long yellow tape worm it sits in the centre of her open mouth, 

pulsing along with the beat of her heart .

She screams, her eyes wide with fright 

and she frantically grabs the end and tries to pull the tube out.

All that does is make her vomit and freak out more 

and it freaks me out too.

Noah is suddenly awake

and all of the kids who were watching tv are suddenly in the room

along with David

like sentinels keeping watch.

I take a deep breath and ask Ivy to do the same

but she is shaky at best and asking her to calm down is like asking her

to jump out of an airplane with no parachute.

We go into action then, my little unit of helpers

and while David rings the hospital the others bring face washers

and clean buckets and water.

The doctor on the other end of the phone is calming and kind

but tells us that the tube will need to come out,

which, after reassuring Ivy several times that she is okay,

I do.

The doctor tells us to phone back in an hour 

to let her know how the girl is doing.

Ivy is very shaken and clambers into my lap

and I sit in the dark room and rock her for minutes 

and then more minutes

while my sentinels stand in their protective semi circle

and Noah cracks inappropriate jokes about vomit above me in his bunk bed.

It’s not over though, not by a long shot

because Ivy’s temperature begins to rise at a mind boggling rate

and I can feel her heart pounding.

A high temperature I can handle 

but it’s that heart rate that frightens me to my very core

and so before the hour is up I ask Dave to call the doctor 

to tell her we will need to bring Ivy in.

On the way, I apprehend myself 

for thinking that we all needed an adventure.

Next time, I think, 

be more specific.

This is not really what I had in mind.

Accident and Emergency is busy 

but when the girl clocks her heart rate in at 200 bpm 

and a temp of 40.3 we are ushered through quickly.

Cannulated, monitored and tested, she is still too unstable for the ward

and so she is given fluid boluses in between hydrocortisone doses

and antibiotics are started again.

She never wakes.

The doctors are efficient, the nurses  incredibly kind 

even though they tired and all overworked 

on this busy mid winter night shift.

When I move her to X-ray she throws up again 

and then lies limply in my arms.

Her oxygen saturations start to fall. 

She doesn’t even fight the mask.

She is so done with this illness, 

her body is done.

Finally her heart slows to 170 and then into the 160′s -

everything else is stable too

and we are moved to the ward.

It’s 5:30 am -

6 am when I push the girl over in her bed and climb in next to her.

She is like a hot water bottle, with her temperature still cooking 

at 39 degrees, despite our best efforts to reduce it.

We sleep and I do not wake until the nurse comes in at nine something

to tell me the team are doing rounds.

I’ve no idea how this will go 

because Ivy’s paed has seemingly given up on the girl

but the on call doctor is good and his team are amazing.

They tell me that on top of everything else Ivy has a urinary tract infection -

her first

and that she will need some time with big gun antibiotics.

The first day goes in a blur, 

the second too

and even though she has burned through three cannulas 

and many more attempts  in these 48 hours,

cried until I thought her heart would break

the girl is definitely getting better and her heart rate is sitting in the 90′s

for the first time in months.

Maybe this time we just might catch that break.