The resident doctor is refusing to take more labs and says we will be discharged. I swallow panic. They don’t know my son. He is a toddler trailblazer, brown eyes sparkling and rosy cheeked, not school-bus yellow and grossly puffy, zoned out on the hospital couch. I had been at home, praying Hail Marys as I texted his symptoms of dehydration, when my thumb slipped on a skull-and-bones emoji. I was stunned and knew it was a message from Mother Mary. I had rushed to the ER and