panic

As I begin this post, I'm three hours into a panic, so bear with me. How is it that a person of above average intelligence, above average skills can handle high stress situations day in day out, sun up sun down, without as much as a Tylenol but coming home to a sick dog sends me deep into Panicland? I can not figure for the life of me what has happened. She was fine this morning, but tons of very bad symptoms tonight tell me she has digested something very bad for her. No sign of destruction in the house. No clues, no hints. Could this be a doggie stomach virus? Oh why can't they have a "once a year and only when you are hurting" talking pass?!?!! She wants out, she wants in, we go out, we come in. 15, 20 times in three hours? It sounds like there is an alien in her belly, a big alien, trying to gnaw it's way out. She's pacing, panting, pacing, pacing. I stroke, comfort talk, scratch the butt, use the "everythings going to be alright" voice. It looks like it's going to be a long night friends. And, oh yeah, it's going to be all of -5 tonight. Luckily, I do have an emergency supply of vet meds on hand. If you've read this far, I'd really appreciate some random prayers, if it doesn't seem too silly to ask. And, actual professional medical advice is welcome too!