|Thomas Julian Kemp (asterismos) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-07-19 17:42:00
|Entry tags:||emma kemp, jameson kemp, madeline kemp, thomas kemp|
WHO: Thomas Kemp, Emma Kemp, open only to Kemp family (he's in the ICU so a friend and Lena post can come later!)
WHEN: Friday evening
WHERE: Hospital ICU
WARNINGS: Health stuff!, TBA
Thomas was wheeled away from his hospital room and into the operating theatre right on time, which he was more than grateful for. As they put the anaesthetic up to his face and told him to count, all he really noticed was the gradual and blissful easing of the excruciating pain that had become his entire existence. He didn't even think to hope he would wake up at the end of it all. The relief was too much.
And then, what seemed all of a minute later to him, but what had actually been six hours, Thomas blinked groggily awake in a recovery room. His head was throbbing dully, but he wasn't in anguish and that was nice. His first action, however, was to slowly roll onto his side and dry-heave over the edge of his bed while several nurses ran at him to stop him from injuring himself or pulling out any tubes. The anaesthetic had made him nauseated and, had he had anything in his stomach at all, it would have been all over the recovery room floor.
Once he was rolled back onto his back, Thomas murmured, "'m alive-" to the ceiling and promptly fell asleep again.
A few hours later, now in the ICU, he woke and found his mother sitting beside him. He felt like his head was full of cobwebs and his mouth was full of cottonballs but he still managed to half-grunt a 'hi' at her.
Emma pulled down her newspaper and she smiled at her son before putting it aside. "Hello, lovely. I have some water for you if you think you can keep it down?"
The moment water was mentioned, it was all Thomas wanted in the entire world. "Please?" he croaked with a throat made of sandpaper. She picked up the cup and angled the straw into his mouth.
"Just be slow about it," she cautioned and Thomas drank as slow as he could manage while still being a little desperate about it. Once he had finished the entire glass, she pulled it away and he blinked at her.
"Still feel a bit sick."
"Well if you need to throw up I have a bucket for you," she assured him. "Though if you want to try something to eat I have soup."
"Mmm." He had been too sick to eat for most of a week, and soup sounded wonderful. He decided to make sure he didn't throw up the water first, however. "How's my hair?"
Emma laughed loudly at that. "Well it's all gone, but your head is entirely wrapped up anyway so I can't see it. I'm sure you'll look fine."
"I'll look like Frankenstein," he informed her. "How...how did it go?" He was fairly sure he was too exhausted to move again ever, but at least he was alive, right?
"It was perfect," she said with a smile. "No complications and they got all of it. You can move out of the ICU tomorrow if all goes well, and you'll be able to go home within a week as long as you don't exert yourself and keep healing." Thomas knew if he had another seizure he'd be stuck here longer so he just had to hope that didn't happen. He wanted to go home. He hadn't been there in a month now.
"Do I have lots of tubes?"
"You do have a rather impressive collection," she said with a nod. Then she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his bandages, ever so carefully. "I'm so glad you're alright. I'm going to go tell the family they can come in now. Unfortunately Lena will have to wait until you're back in your room."
Thomas frowned at that, but he understood. Mostly, he just wanted to see his son. "Okay," he said, wishing he felt a little more human.