When my daughter, Lauren, was 18 months old, my wife and I were camping in the remote Chiricahua Mountains in the southeastern corner of Arizona. We had hiked in about a mile on a narrow trail, etc. At 3AM Peggy said, "My God, feel this child!" I did so. She was burning up with an extremely high temperature. We threw sand on the coals and trotted out (thank God for a full moon), fired up the old Dodge pickup and drove wide open for sixty miles to the nearest hospital. The 1950 Dodge, already 30 years old, would never be the same again.
We skidded into the emergency lane, leaped out and rushed inside. The ER crew gathered round and we uncovered Lauren. She was smiling. Her temperature was normal. She spent the next 15 minutes giggling at the funny clothes on the ER folks, wondering what all the fuss was about.
I hope your daughter's illness turns out as well as my daughter's did (she's now 25).
Regards.
Ted