IceBerg - 27. Chapter 27

PRESENT DAY

A steadfast of smooth beeps.

I wake a little, my eyelids are heavy.

Everything is a little blurry and white in here, the walls are white, the floor is white. There is a small window. I look down at my feet covered with a thin blue blanket. There is a chart hanging at the end.

Okay, so I am in a bed.

My arms are resting at each side of me. I stare at them as if they were prosthetics and not my real arms. They look thin, painful so, with needles taped down on them. It looks like it should feel sore. The beeps are still steadfast in the background, the only noise echoing around the room.

My mouth is really dry.

Glancing over to the window near my bed, I now see Father Tom. He is talking to someone; he looks stressed and very upset.

The other person turns a little to me.

Dad.

He looks so pale. They both look up suddenly.

They look over at me and I close my eyes. My stomach hurts so much. There is a large plastic bag with liquid in, it drips away at me. My brain hurts.

                                                           ***

‘Hello, Nathanial, how you feeling today?’

I say nothing, watching the cheerful nurse.

‘Your signs are looking much better, Nathanial,’ she carries on her smile at me. It is a warm jolly smile and I feel a little less reserved now, relaxing back.

‘Doctor Farrah is going to come in later on to talk to you, is that okay?’

I raise my head a little and allow myself to nod.

I watch the nurse turn around and shut the door with a quiet manner, head bowed down. Staring ahead, I catch the flickers of the small television up on the wall.

That doctor, Doctor Farrah, he always looks sad, as if it was happening to him and not me. That weird look in his eyes, as if he were an actor. Probably acts his emotions anyway, doctors probably do that.

When he comes around, he asks a lot of questions, about my health.

I give vaguely honest answers.

Then he asks one more, ‘Father Tom told me something happened, I would like to do some further tests if that is possible?’

I just nod.

I have to have the test later, all swabbed, prodded. It’s still discreet, thanks to Father Tom. I did tell him about Alex, didn’t I? I wonder if he told my dad.

My chest crumples, the heart monitor giving out shaking beats. I hate that, it’s revealing my anxiety. Nothing is private.

***

Official diagnosis. Schizophrenia disorder.

Like that was supposed to shock me or something.

Now I had it, I was put on medication. Strong tablets a day. I hadn’t been looking after my body for a while and it was suffering; I needed to stay in hospital a few more days to recover.

‘We've had the analysis from the psych team and they are happy for you to stay here for now,' the doctor had said earlier. ‘We are concerned about your physical health, we are having a heart monitor on you for a few days.’

All the lack of not eating, apparently, I had had a little heart thing when I collapsed. My heart could only take so much and it broke down. I broke down.

I am not a threat to anyone though. That’s the important thing. Right.

I have to be fed on a drip as if I am a starving teenager. It’s not like that. I never stopped eating because I don’t like food. I was just too tired to eat.

Switching the television off, I place the remote next to me, staring hard at the black turned off screen.

The doctor comes in again. This must be for the other test. He says it will be late on today.

‘The nurse will help you get ready, it shouldn’t take long,’ he said, checking my charts and giving me a soft smile.

He pauses, ‘Your dad wants to see you, so does Father Tom. Would you like to see them before the tests?’

‘Do they know?’ I throw him a worried look.

‘They know as much as you want them to know,’ he replies with a calm look.

He stands up to walk out the room.

‘What happens next?’ I call out, my voice a little sore.

He stops and looks at me.

‘Do I get thrown into a room after all this?’

He shook his head ‘It’s not like that at all, Mr. Greystone. There are many ways to help your mental health, medication, therapy, we would work around whichever is best for yourself.’

‘Isn’t schizophrenia and a break down just another way of saying lunatic?’

‘Times are changing, Mr. Greystone, if you like, I can get some reading material so you can read up information on your condition.’

‘The more you know,’ I muse, looking back at the television screen. I keep staring until I hear the door click shut.

I let out a sigh. I can’t wait to get home. That home of mine. The large spacious flat Alex helped me buy. At least I could lock the door.

‘Good afternoon,’ I hear Father Tom peering in. ‘Can we come in?’

I clear my hoarse throat and smile, ‘Of course.’

He opens the door up and my dad follows behind him. My usual tall father looking so small, his clothes crumpled. He says nothing while he sits one side of me, Father Tom the other side.

My chest tightens and that stupid monitor bleeps quickly. Ugh. This is awkward.

I tell them about my mental health condition. I tell them the medication I am to be put on. It is all matter of facts which I prefer talking about that then how I actually feel.

Once my dad leaves the room for the bathroom, I lean close to Father Tom and ask, in a whisper, ‘You didn’t tell my dad what I told you, did you?’

Father Tom shook his head, ‘That is your call, son, not mine.’ He struggles a little, ‘I have been in touch with the police, they said they would come in to talk.’

‘Absolutely not.’

Father Tom pauses, ‘Okay. I will tell them not to come in. This is your decision. If you change your mind though.’

‘If I change my mind, then yeah,’ I reply, still watching for my dad to come back. ‘Please don’t speak about it to anyone.’

He looks sad, ‘Did they do the tests on you?’

I see my dad coming in.

‘They will later, yes,’ I reply.
***

The tests were pointless. I mean the whole thing with Alex it happened a while ago and I managed to clean up a lot.

But they said there was still some swelling down there. Some scars.

They try to ask me who did it. They asked me if I wanted to pursue it further.

I declined both.

***

‘This thing,’ I reach my arm over and throw the mental health papers into my lap. ‘I didn’t

know this could trigger this. Or that it also genetic.’

It was the next day and I was discussing my condition with Father Tom and my dad the next day.

‘It does sound complicated,’ smiles Father Tom. ‘But that is the way of the human life, the craziness God has granted us.’

I should snort at that and make bold declaration of the disappearance of God. But I just nod.

‘Father,’ my dad finally speaks up, his voice barely a whisper. ‘Perhaps you could say a little prayer for us while we are all together?’

Father Tom nods, ‘Of course.’

We bow our heads as he mutters some prayers. My eyes are closed and I feel a hand reach out and clutch hard at my arm. I open my eyes a little and my dad is holding onto my arm. He grips it tight and my throat almost closes up.

‘Amen,’ Father Tom mutters.

We mutter in response.

‘Hello?’ a small voice comes through the door.

Oli emerges, his eyes looking sore, his face dishevelled. I catch his eyes. He looks terrible. I look terrible.

He rushes to me, ‘Thank god!’

He wraps his arms around me, I stretch up, wrapping my arms around him, tightening the large hug he is giving me.

Pulling apart, he nods at my dad, ‘Sorry for pushing past,’ he then looks at Father Tom. ‘Sorry the earlier comment.’

Father Tom just smiles. I feel bad he is still here and not at his church.

I cast my eyes down, sideways at him, ‘You don’t have to wait around Father, if you need to go.’

‘I told you I would not leave you,’ he replies.

***
 

Father Tom and dad explained to Oli what was going on, especially with my brain.

Then my dad left to see John, to make sure he went out for a walk, and Father Tom had to get back to his parish.

Once they both left, Oli ordered that I scoot a little on the bed. I had raised my eyebrow, saying I was sick. He sat on the bed next to me, feet up. He asks what these buttons I have next to me were for. I laugh a little, saying he would get in trouble. I then explain that the buttons are for me to press if I want assistance. He shrugs. I laugh again telling him he will be in trouble if a nurse walks in.

‘Need to live a little,’ he teases. ‘Anyway, look at this.’

He takes out his phone and puts in front of us.

‘Oli,’ I say.

‘Shush, just look!’ he brings up the social medias. ‘Look at this.’

There are posts by the T.V show, saying they are worried about me that I have gone missing. Alex put out messages, saying he is desperate for me to get in touch. Charlie put similar desperate messages. There are so many replies back. So many of those hashtags of finding me. Fans putting up photos of me from the venues. Not flattering photos but still.

Messages.

‘My things,’ I suddenly say. ‘I left everything.’

‘I think the police have it all but they will probably give it to your dad later.’

I pause, ‘I wasn’t gone that long, was I?’

‘Dude, you were missing for five days,’ he nudges me.

‘I didn’t… I’m sorry.’

‘Shush,’ he nudges me again, putting his arm round my shoulders giving a quick squeeze. ‘No one is mad. I knew something was up; you’ve not been yourself lately.’

‘I can’t be bothered to face people,’ I mutter, looking at my hands.

‘You don’t have to,’ he smiles. ‘I will deal with the people.’

For a moment I glance up at Oli. Sometimes I muse over comments by others if we ever got together as a couple. But those thoughts don’t last long, he is a good-looking man but he is not my type, and he gets on my nerves very easily. He is loud, obnoxious, annoying and I’ve known him far too long. But moments like this remind me why he was my greatest friend, the only friend who stood by me throughout everything in the past. The most loyal.

I rest my head against his shoulder, watching him through his phone at all the comments.

‘Wow,’ I muse. ‘Didn’t realise I was that popular.’

‘It’s thanks to the show, and Alex and Charlie. You know they love you very much, even if they are a pair of tools.’

I don’t reply, I just watch the comments scroll up, the pictures of fans sending their signed copies of photos with love hearts, wishing me love.

He taps the phone off.

‘I messed up there, didn’t I?’ I murmur.

‘No, you didn’t, they all still love you very much,’ Oli replies. ‘You can talk to me about it, you know?’

Doctors walk past outside my room, talking with one another, all holding clipboards.

I shake my head, pulling my drip wire from under Oli, ‘Maybe another time.’

He pauses before reaching over and looking at the papers, I had earlier. I had put them on the desk next to me.

‘So, we got to research the crap out of this condition, eh,’ he reads over the papers. ‘We are going to know it inside out, to the point we could do an essay on it.’

I frown, ‘I’m not writing any essays.’

‘Ugh, you writer,’ he laughs. He flicks one page up before saying, ‘Right let’s read this together. You want any coffee, sandwich, oh.’ He pauses and slaps his own forehead, ‘Ha, ha sorry. I just said that on instant.’ He gives out a little laugh.

‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ I smile back. ‘I know it’s pretty awkward, me sitting here looking like a starving freak.’

‘You’re not a freak,’ he shoots right back. ‘You’re not well, and you’re going to get better, and that’s it.’

‘That’s it?’ I muse, still smiling.

He sticks his tongue out at me, ‘It’s the way your brain is wired, man. It’s different and that’s okay.’

I give a quick glance at the clock. It’s been three hours and he’s not left my side once. Fool.

‘Excuse me, what are you doing on his bed?’ the nurse comes in, swishing her hands at Oli.

He rolls his eyes and slinks into the chair next to me.

‘Mr. Greystone needs all the rest he needs, he is in a poor state,’ she barks at Oli, checking my vitals.

‘Looks good,’ her voice is a sudden change to calm as she speaks to me. ‘You’re doing very well Mr. Greystone, you have some colour in your cheeks!’

‘All due to my good friend here,’ I smile at him.

She nods, still tapping at my bag. ‘Well, I am afraid visiting hours are over in an hour.’

‘Aw but special circumstances though!’ protests Oli.

‘It’s okay,’ I pat his hand. ‘You can come back tomorrow.’ I laugh a little, ‘I’m not going anywhere this time.’

The nurse leaves, and Oli pulls a face behind her. When she leaves, he leans in close to me.

‘Here, I will take this.’

‘What?’

Before I can process, he has his phone up and catches a random selfie of us in mid conversation.

I shake my head, ‘I look awful. Why would you do that?’

I stare hard at the picture. My head.

In an instant, I put my hands onto my shaved head.

‘I look hideous,’ my voice is weak.

‘Still not the worst haircut you’ve ever had,’ he nudges me giving a little weak giggle. ‘Remember that time I dyed mine blue and it came out purple?’

I throw myself into him, hugging him tight. He hugs me back more.

‘I took the photo. One day at a time,’ he whispers into my ear. ‘Taking one photo a day to get better. See the physical change in yourself. When you are better you will look at this photo and remember how strong you are.’

‘That’s so stupid,’ I whisper back.

He says nothing but hugs me back tighter.

                                                                          ***
 

I am feeling much better.

Scents of food, toast and bacon and eggs are strong, almost overpowering. They taste so good. My stomach craves it; my appetite is awake for the first time in ages and I just want to eat and eat.

‘Mr. Greystone!’ a nurse comes in. I think she is the same one as last night.

There’s been a few in here, sometimes I think I am dreaming, that they come in and out so often in the night. The doctors come and go too.

‘Well,’ she checks the drip bag. ‘Doctor Farrah is happy with your progress; the medication is working fine.’

I remember when I was put on medication, that Doctor Farrah was smiling at me. He explained, ‘It is like this with any medication you have. It might take a few days, even weeks, before it takes effect. A common side effect will be tiredness, so just pace yourself. We’re going to monitor how you are on them.’

Day two on medication and I hadn’t heard Jake talk at all. Or any other voices or noises. I heard a soft whisper now and then but it lasted seconds and went away. Other than that, it is utter silence and it is overwhelming and amazing at the same time. This stuff is strong to work so quickly.

When I am alone, I find myself with tears down my face, just from hearing that pure silence.

The nurse checks my needle, and writes in my chart at the end of the bed.

‘When can I go home?’ I ask the nurse.

‘The doctor will tell you when,’ she says in a factual tone before turning around and walking to the door. ‘I will check up on you later this afternoon.’

I almost want to pull a face at her when she leaves. I rest my head back on the pillow.

I am still so tired. But I have a little energy. Grabbing the T.V remote, I turn on the television, finding whatever crap I can watch. It has been a while seen I have sat down to watch shows.

My show comes on for a moment. I click past it quick. I don’t know how I feel about it anymore. Charlie’s comedy show is on, there is a segment where the other team have to guess what their captain is pretending to be. I click past that. Okay. Some news. News is reliable. Just politics.

***

‘Chemicals in the brain,’ Oli read off his phone. He nudges me, ‘Look!’

‘I saw, I heard you,’ I roll my eyes. ‘You find this stuff interesting?’

‘I like to do my research,’ he comments. ‘No one knows what exactly causes it and there are three main groups of schizophrenia.’

He talks on and I sit there just enjoying listening. He has done so much research into this. I feel I can relax and he is doing all the hard work. I should find out myself but Oli is so much better at gathering information than me. He is so passionate and I just smile and listen to him.

‘What have you told you before!’ the nurse comes in, frowning at Oli.

Shrugging, Oli gets off the bed next to me and sits on the chair while the nurse looks over my chart.

Suddenly, Oli stands up putting his phone away. ‘Okay, Waldo, I will be back later, I got to go see David, who by the way, sends all his love, he hasn’t had time off work yet. But we’ll both see you tomorrow, cool?’

He gives me a hug and a punch to my arm. I pull a face at him. The nurse gives us a weird look before Oli leaves the room.

After checking my drip, she nods to the door, ‘Ah, you have another visitor.’

I see the shadow at the door, coming in, peering in with his giant frame.

My hand curls around the buttons I have. I should say something but my throat is closed up.

I just smile. Alex.