Emma Kemp (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} and_in_between) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} nevermore_logs,@ 2013-07-09 16:45:00 |
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WHAT: Just a little breakdown...
WHEN: Tuesday afternoon
WHERE: Thomas' hospital room
WARNINGS: Language, sickness
Out of all her children, Thomas had undoubtedly caused Emma the most worry. This time, however, it was hardly his fault. He had a bleed in his brain and he would require surgery and she could do nothing to help. Her husband was at home, dying a slow and horrible death. Her youngest daughter was a teenager, enough said. One of her older daughters was still getting over the death of her husband and the younger one was troubled. Now Thomas was in a medically induced coma while the swelling in his brain went down, and even if he did make a full recovery, he was just going to succumb to the same disease her husband had eventually.
Emma liked to think of herself as a calm and patient woman, but sometimes there was just too much. And while she usually kept it to herself, sparing a few tears in the dark when she was alone, she was too overwhelmed to try to mask this.
Thomas was not out of the woods. He wasn't safe. So many things could go wrong and it was a waiting game. She had been holding his hand for hours; ever since visiting hours began. Nothing had changed. The swelling wasn't going down yet, and Thomas remained asleep. Every once in a while his body seized for a few minutes and then came to rest again. It was horrible to watch. Gut-wrenching.
When it happened for the fifth time, Emma lost hold of her fragile composure. She stood and slammed her fist into the bedside table, knocking it over, before sinking to the floor and sobbing into her hands.
If Thomas wasn't okay, she didn't know what she would do.