All of Me by Kim Noble

one. Sure, I’d had to endure a hideous run of events but what family doesn’t go through a period like that every so often? Each instance was unpleasant, yes, but not really out of the ordinary. And, on the bright side, at least I seemed to be all right.
    So why did I wake up one morning to find my stomach had just been pumped?

CHAPTER FIVE
    There’s no helping you
    ‘Hello, Samaritans. Who am I speaking to?’
    The voice was calm, reassuring and friendly.
    ‘Hello?’ it repeated. ‘I’m Sam. You don’t have to tell me your name. How are you feeling today?’
    Rebecca shook as she clutched the handset tightly. Her knuckles were white with effort, as though if she let go of the phone she would drown. In a way she would.
    The man called Sam spoke again, trying to cajole a response from his silent caller. ‘I’m not doing anything if you just want to talk.’
    Nothing.
    ‘Hello? Hello? It’s all right, whatever you want to say won’t go any further.’
    Rebecca listened, smiled, then replaced the receiver in its cradle. She was glad she’d called. It was comforting to hear the stranger’s voice.
    Then she picked up the bottle of white tablets and tipped them into her mouth.
    ‘W hat are you playing at?’
    Mum was leaning over me. I was in bed.
    ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through?’
    She was angry. Jabbing her finger when she spoke. Crutches leaning against her chair. And she’d been crying as well.
    What have I done now?
    Right: deep breath, collect the evidence. Harder than usual. My eyesight was fuzzy, like a TV with a weak signal. I blinked - nothing – then scrunched my face trying to tune the picture in. Then I shook my head. Big mistake. It was pounding, as though my brain were trying to fight its way out.
    Focus, Patricia. What do you see?
    It wasn’t my room. I knew that. Too big and the wrong colour. And too bright as well. No wonder I couldn’t keep my eyes open. And who were the other people? They were in white and blue.
    Memories of visiting Mum at Mayday came flooding back.
    Nurses. Doctors.
    I was in the hospital. But why? I arched my head left. There was machinery as far as I could see. It was like being in an episode of The Six Million Dollar Man. Mum was staring at me, waiting for an answer. I didn’t know anything. Normally I would have worked it out by now. This time I was stuck. I knew I was in a hospital bed and I knew I was hooked up to some scary-looking equipment. Something was wrong. But that was as far as it went. Whatever Mum was mad about I’d have to work out later. At the moment she knew more than me.
    I needed to tell her something – even if it was just my usual ‘I don’t know’ – so I cleared my throat.
    Ouch!
    It was as though someone had set light to my chest. Searing, hot pain coursed from my lungs up into my mouth. I had to cough to clear it but that just made the fiery pain worse.
    What the hell are these machines doing to me? I wondered angrily. Instinctively I pulled my head away. I needed to escape. They’re burning me inside.
    A woman appeared next to me. She didn’t look angry like Mum but she wasn’t smiling either.
    ‘Relax, Kim, just take it easy.’
    As she spoke she reached over to check a cable running from the machines – into my arm. I was plugged in! I hadn’t noticed. There was a clear tube coming out of my left hand. I panicked for the first time and tried to scratch it off.
    ‘Stop that, Kim!’ the woman said. Her voice had changed now, from calming to firm. She grabbed my hands and separated them.
    ‘Listen to the nurse,’ Mum’s voice reasoned. ‘You’ve done enough damage.’
    I looked up at the woman and finally she smiled.
    ‘You need to rest,’ she explained, her voice warm again. ‘Don’t speak if you can help it. You’ve been through a lot.’
    I nodded but with my head flat on my pillow the movement was almost imperceptible. It was enough for the nurse. She checked something else on the machines,