I Hope I Don't Die

"I hope I don't die."  That's what Heidi said last night after 4 days of a stomach virus. 
"Oh, that's terrible."  "I hate this part."  All of the funny little things that she said in the midst of her puking were so pathetically sad. 
It started on Saturday.  She started whining that afternoon and I knew something was amiss.  By that night, she was totally sick.  I was wondering if I should call my co-teacher and ask her to take the primary lesson while I found a sub.  Sunday dawned and Heidi was bright and shiny. Whew!  A 24 hour bug. She was happy at church and happy all afternoon. We got up on Monday and after a little bit of pseudo cleaning of their rooms, Heidi, Alison, and Sophie all ran over to play at the neighbor's house-- you know.  The one with a chemo pick in Grandpa's chest. 
Dan's boss felt badly that Dan had put in so much time away from home with the move of their business in Bellevue, so he told Dan to take us out to dinner.  We decided on Mizu.  The kids love it, but we rarely take them because it's so expensive.  We got a late start heading out for dinner because Dan had scheduled a Scout Master interview with one of his scouts at 6.  He didn't show up until 6:30 (boys are no better than men at realizing that it takes time to get picked up from one event and brought to another) and we didn't get out of the house until 7:50.  By then, Heidi was STARVING.  She hadn't eaten well on Sunday and Monday was kind of a grazing day, so I didn't keep track of how much she actually ate.  Heidi started pacing and whining. 
The older kids were in heaven.  Alison was so animated, loving everything and giving gratuitous gasps at every burst of flame.  She joked with the cook and got extra shrimp and fire for her pains.  While the kids gobbled up their sushi, shrimp, fried rice, steak, and chicken (they didn't really care for the salad or the soup), I tried to get Heidi to sip her root beer or some of the broth, hoping to get something in her so she didn't go in to hypoglycemic shock. 
Then she got that green look.  She and I raced to the bathroom, barely making it before she lost it.  We came back to the table after getting cleaned up.  I hurried through my dinner, trying to enjoy the rest of the kids, but wanting to get Heidi out of there.  She and I headed out to the SUV where, luckily, we have Alison's stash of car sick bags.  They were used. 
Poor Heidi crawled in to bed when we got home and went to sleep.
The next morning Heidi was bright and shining again.  Whew!  That weird 3 day flu, where there is a good day in between.  We went to the bus stop and she played with all of the kids and the neighbor's baby.  We came home.  She ate some yogurt.  She started whining again.  And the process began again.  That was yesterday.  Last night at midnight, I'd finally had enough.  I was desperate enough to take her to the ER.  Always, always, always I seem to make the wrong decision-- but then again, there was that dream last week and I wasn't sure I could live with myself if I truly lost her. 
I don't know about anyone else, but our standard ER visit is 3 hours, and that's if nothing is truly wrong.  I can't imagine how long it would take if there was something serious.  They bled her, made her pee in a cup, and tried to get her to eat a Popsicle right after she'd just puked.  After the three hours, they finally said if we wanted to, they would hook her up to an iv and give her fluids.  We said, "Thank you, but no."  Because, of course, at 3 am, a five year old with a stomach ache wants to be in one place-- at home, in her parent's bed, writhing in pain.  It was a short night.
This morning under threats of going back to the hospital to get stuck with another needle, I was able to get her to drink about a 1/4 cup of water, take some Tylenol and acidopholous, and eat one quarter of a Ritz cracker.  Watching 4 hours of Scooby Doo has kept her distracted enough that she forgets that her stomach should still be hurting. 
It appears that she won't die after all, but she will remember this for a long time.
I mostly gave a travel log so you could see how many people we infected with this.  Grr.....  I hate being that person.