it's life or death

So last night I had trouble getting to sleep, which is not uncommon for an insomnia sufferer. However, once I was asleep, I had no trouble staying asleep, and the Sober Husband let me sleep in, which was kindly meant indeed. But when I did wake up... I went downstairs to discover that one of my foster kittens had gone into shock. This is a very small kitten, one who is at most three weeks old and who was separated from his mother at only around four days old. Meanwhile all the other foster kittens and adult cats were clamoring for breakfast, and the kittens' pen was hideously fouled as it always is, AND because it was a half-day at Iris Uber Alles's school, I had very little time to deal with everything before leaving to pick up Iris.

The kitten was lying with its head at an unnatural angle, looking as though rigor mortis had already set in. As a seasoned crazy cat lady, I knew what to do: I put corn syrup on the kitten's gums to get his blood sugar up ASAP, I administered subcutaneous fluids (this was complicated by Lola interrupting me and the other hungry kittens squawking), and I heated up a warming pad for the kitten (he had lost a lot of body heat already and was cold to the touch).

For an unemployed person, I am remarkably important. If I oversleep, someone could die.

postscript: The kitten is hanging in there as of 6:45 p.m. Earlier in the day I conferred with the head of my rescue, and we agreed that there was no reason to take him to the vet other than to euthanize him as no one would do any more for him than I could.