The Other End of the Ride

The ride was a long one; filled with anxious chatter. I must have prayed every 15 minutes of the trip. Finally, we arrive at the hospital; one none of us had ever been to before. We parked in a lot we found out later wasn't even for hospital parking. At the time, we didn't care. Mere minutes separated us from our baby girl.
A quick stop at the security desk and we were headed up in the elevator to the floor with the PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit for those fortunate enough to be oblivious to the acronym). The site that awaited us was much the same as when we left her on her way to the helicopter. She had a mass of tubes protruding from her small frame and was laying as if lifeless. A nurse and, soon enough, a resident doctor were at hand to explain the situation and that they had good hope for Sydney's recovery.
Recover shed did, and at quite an amazing pace. By the next night, what once was a lifeless figure, was regaining awareness and activity. The second morning would bring a crawling, crying baby face to face with her parents who were elated beyond anything I could have imagined. The birth of my children are of the most memorable moments of my life. But this....this was like a rebirth. It was if she had been taken from us, then given back.
After three nights and a round of tests the seizure was determined to be Febrile in nature; ie fever related. As such, we were sent home with Diastat that was to be given after 5 minutes of seizure activity. If a seizure persisted past this, then a call to 911 would be in order. We went home feeling safe with the thought that it would probably never happen again, and, if so, we had the Diastat to stop it.