Heat

The Twilight Zone

I'm walking in soup and it's not just because of the heat that's enveloping me. We climb the stairs to waiting room and no one speaks. It's unusual for we Thompsons but what do you say?

My dad decided to take his own life after talking to my boyfriend.

I can't really see Tom's face now – but he looked floored and lost in that moment. I wonder how much of the conversation he'd heard – enough obviously.

What do I say to him?

Do I want to say anything to him?

I need to talk to him – but what do you say.

I can't even look at him. The guilt is crushing. If we'd taken this slower my dad would be sitting on the creek bank fishing or with his feet up in his armchair instead I feel like Tom and I put him in the hospital.

Rationally I know that he didn't talk my dad into trying to kill himself but when I look at him I remember where I am and my heart plummets.

We walk up the stairs and find that everyone is now standing and waiting for us.

The Doctor is talking to mum, Derek moves to stand next to her as an interpreter of sorts I suppose, Di is on her other side. The rest of us are huddled around in a scrum. Team Thompson, standing together. Except not. I feel alone, I feel overwhelming guilt, crushing me like that tractor.

Tom and I are on either sides of the bunch, I can't look at him. I caused this – he's devastated, my dad is a mess and I caused it.

I see Kat move towards him, ask how he is put an arm around him and I feel an arm around me and I snuggle into the person wanting to bury my face in their arm. I don't care who it is and I look, not surprised that it's uncle Joe – thank god for uncle Joe. On the other side I have Nathan and between them I think they must be holding me up because my leg's aren't working.

Dad has made it through the surgery – not all of him though. One leg was too crushed – the other is a "wait and see" proposition. There's been internal injuries but he was lucky that his legs took more of the impact than his body. There is brain swelling but they've released some of the pressure and they'll be monitoring it – he's in an induced coma.

 In short he's done a job on himself but this is a good hospital, a teaching hospital and although they aren't always the best resourced, they've managed to put my dad back together - mostly. Maybe we'll consider moving him to the local private hospital but not now he's here and so are we.

Mum seems relieved,  I see her slump against Derek, Dave and Scott  (who have now moved in close to support her).out the corner of my eye I catch Kat whispering  something to Tom and he smiles. I don't feel jealous I don't feel anything. I wish I did.

It will be a little while before anyone can go see dad and even then it will be one or two at a time and with a family like ours that is a major undertaking. The Doctor says a few more things – which basically equate to "he's lucky"and 'he's not out of the woods, he's still critical but more or less stable".

I feel sorry for the Doc, he doesn't look that much older than me and he's just had to contend with almost the entire clan Thompson all at once after several hours standing there trying to patch and repair our patriarch. It's like fronting the Spanish Inquisition without natty armour.

As the Doc finishes, we slowly move apart. It's close to 1pm and it's been a trillion hours since I ate – I wonder if my mum and brothers have eaten at all.

We can't leave though, not all of us. Someone should do a food run. Should it be me?

 I can't leave but I want to. I want to run in the opposition direction and keep running until I don't know who or where I am. I don't to think or feel. My mind is whirring and my life is crashing down on my ears.