Overnight last night, however, it all came to a head with a spiked fever of 102.6 at 4am. Crazy as it sounds, her ashen color and want of me to sleep in her bed - whereas she would normally literally biff me in the face and kick at my belly to get me out - were actually more concerning to me than the fever itself.
This morning, 7 min after the Tylenol was technically no longer effective, Quinn had a 103.7. She is extremely lethargic and, when the narcotic is not in her system, is whimpering in her sleep.
The nurse came by this afternoon and even the self-dubbed Eternal Optimist agreed that while it may be an infection, signs are indicative otherwise. That instead, Quinn may be in the final stages of disease progression.
She was started on antibiotics at 11:30 this morning, so we'll have a much clearer picture over the next 24 hours.
I'm not sure what to even hope for at this point. The end is imminent, even if it's not within a days or hours timeframe. And she's pretty zen right now, even feeling really shitty as she obviously does. So is it the worst timing? Because the end result is not changing, timing is really the sole variable.
I've given her 'permission', if you will. Six months ago today she was in PICU after bleeding out and I was begging her to hold on. But I'm not begging her right now. I'm telling her instead that if this is it, if this is the right time for her, then it's ok for her to let go.
It'll never be OK. But for Quinn, we'll figure out a way to make it so.
Please keep my baby girl in your thoughts.