First ER visit? That was only the beginning...

24 hours ago, I didn't think I'd be here. Sitting in a hospital room with my little chunk not knowing how long we'd be here.... even 5 days ago, I had no clue her little cough would lead to this. She started with a small cough. Nothing big at all. She would start her fake cough and a real one would follow. The next day, it was worse. We assumed it would be another little cold with nothing to worry about. The day after, she was fussy (which has NEVER happened aside from exhaustion) and couldn't sleep. After a quick call to her doctor, we began her neb treatments again. An hour later, she spiked a fever. Shortly after, she was wheezing. She was VERY lethargic. She couldn't focus. She would stare at thin air. She had refused all food (only having a quarter her normal amount) She was definitely not the baby she should be. We rushed to the ER and she was diagnosed with RSV and bronchitis. After we broke the fever, my baby was mostly back. She was playing and smiling. Still unable to breathe, but back.
The next day she made no progress, but didn't get any worse. Today, we woke up and she was fine. A few hours later, her breathing was unstable at best.  As the day progressed, she couldn't catch her breath, couldn't complete usual tasks without gasping for air, was coughing so hard she'd vomit, and was becoming increasingly unaware. We made it to her doctor where he told us she needed to be admitted. I realise it could be much worse. I mean, it isn't cancer. So, I am thankful it isn't too bad. I'm thankful she is where she needs to be. I'm thankful she is in good hands. Still, I want my kid home. I want her healthy. I want my sweet baby back. I want all of these tubes and monitors off of her. I want my chunk at home curled up with me watching mickey. Compared to some, I'm doing pretty good. I had a little moment after we found out the plan, but I've been okay with the situation ever since. I'm okay that she can't come home right now. Like I said, she is where she needs to be.
Chunk? She could care less. She acts tough, like she isn't sick. She acts like nothing is wrong and life should resume its normal course. She isn't fussy. She is tough. Aside from her arm being wrapped for the IV, none of this bothers her. She smiles, high fives, and bounces away like she is healthy. She keeps me strong. If she let on how sick she really is, I'm sure this would be much harder for me. I'm sure I'd be a mess. However, it still doesn't change the fact that my chunk is sick and not where she belongs. I'm not sure how parents of nicu babies or children with cancer cope. Just the thought of anything worse than this makes me cringe. I know she will be okay. So, its easy to deal with this little hiccup. Though, it does make me realise that what I do pales in comparison to those that have children fighting for life. THAT is why I hate being here. Seeing people that will never leave. Their family visits knowing this will be their last place. They know they will never see home again. I HATE seeing that look. I HATE being surrounded by hopelessness and still trying to cling to the silver-lining. I HATE knowing there is nothing I can do for them. I HATE thinking about how that could be us. I HATE the empty looks of sadness. I HATE being here instead of home. At home, there is fun, love, and hope. I try to bring as much of that to my daughter as I can, but walking to her room is like walking through the river Styx..... I pass the souls of once living beings... they need a back entrance....