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Was enjoying my Saturday afternoon when I got a phone call from Damon to 'hurry up and pack a bag'. He informed me that something had gone wrong with Dad and his breathing and we had to drive down and see what was going on.

The air was so thick I could cut it with a knife. Damon and Mark hardly spoke to me in the car, and they were upset with me when I got sick. I threw up in the car about 3 times. After the first time I chundered, they bought some plastic bags (like those freezer bags) to use as 'sick bags'. Then I got told off for 'drinking too much water' (even though I only had a few sips to get rid of the aftertaste and dryness in my mouth and throat). Over and over again, I apologized.

And after the 2nd and 3rd times, Damon told me to 'breathe through my nose' and not my mouth. But I couldn't stop coughing and gagging. Then he accused me of 'having a go' at him and of making it 'all about me'. I told him to leave me alone and that 'maybe I should stop breathing'. Then Mark butted in saying, 'Maybe you should shut up and behave yourself' (like I was behaving like some spoilt child). Then, when I started crying, Damon started apologizing, so I said, 'Well so you should be'. Then Mark said, 'I'll put you on the next bus'. And then Damon told Mark off, by saying, 'You're not helping' (because all it was doing was inflaming the situation). Well, I don't remember the exact sequence of who said what, but it was not good

It was most upsetting. I just so didn't get it - how can I be 'making it about me' when I was sick through no fault of my own. I hardly had anything to eat, yet what little contents I had still in my stomach just wouldn't stay down. And then having Mark go around the corners quickly (which resulted in my getting motion sickness) made things worse. To be honest, I would have been thankful had I been 'put on the next bus back home'. At least people wouldn't yell at me for being sick.

And if things weren't bad enough, we got to Milton hospital andsaw Dad in an almost comatose state. While he was breathing, it was like very shallow and rapid breathing, and his lungs sounded really rattly. It was like his snoring, but at a much more rapid pace. It was really too much for me to cope with in one day.

Damon then apologized properly, saying we had to 'be strong' for Dad (especially if he was dying). He wasn't dead yet, but things didn't look too hopeful either. Mum and Ingrid were also there, but they left early and I came with them. I didn't really want to hang around, and wasn't too sure what it would achieve if I did. But Damon and Mark decided to and didn't come back for the rest of the night.