Someone to Watch over Me, Chapter 9
Warning:
This story contains scenes of love and sexual interaction between males of consenting age. If the reading or possessing this material is illegal in your country, state, province, county, municipality, etc., please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further. If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so. It is not my intention to offend anyone or to get you in trouble.
The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without explicit authorization from me.
This is not my first attempt at writing fiction. My longer stories on Nifty include: "Always and Forever" (March 25, 2004), "Jacob and Jacques" (May 30, 2004), "Zeke" (August 29, 2005), "Tales from Bentonville" (November 16, 2008), and "Second Chance" (September 24, 2010) under "High School" in the gay male section. There are a few short stories also: "Brad and Alan's Canoe Trip" (April 22, 2004 under "Camping", "Of Angels and Dragons" (November 8, 2008) under "Camping", "A Christmas Tale" (December 22, 2009) under "High School", "Brazil Affair (October 1, 2010) under "Beginnings", and "Seth's Gift" (October 10, 2010) under the Science Fiction/Fantasy category.
I am now listed on Nifty under the category of "Prolific Net Authors" which will make it easier for you to access earlier stories. Some of these stories are also posted at: www.storylover.us along with those of other writers that may interest you.
My only reward for contributing to Nifty is your emails. Please write if you like the story. Please include the name of the story in the title of your email because my email service sometimes puts them in the "spam" file.
Finally, thanks and hugs to Tom and David who edit for me so that there are fewer mistakes! They not only proof-read, but make other valuable suggestions.
David (dlee169@hotmail.com)
Someone to Watch over Me, chapter 9
Before Paul knew it, the second semester of his junior year was history. He had signed up for a couple of summer school classes so that he might be able to graduate by December. The thought appealed to him for several reasons, among which were saving tuition money and being able to get married earlier without going back on his vow to graduate first.
He headed home in a light-hearted mood thinking of how he and Doug could celebrate his few days of freedom before the summer school began. He was surprised to see the convertible in the drive parked somewhat askew.
When he entered the kitchen, he saw Doug sitting at the table with his head in his hands. Paul feared that there was bad news.
"What's the matter, Doug?"
"I don' know. I have this motha of all blinding headaches. I couldn' even deal with putting the car away – `fraid hit garage... Cou-chew get me a ton of ashpirin?"
"Doug, do you have your cell phone?"
"Sure. Wha for?"
"May I use it to call Dakota?"
Doug fumbled to get his phone from his pocket and handed it to Paul who said "Dakota" into the receiver. After two rings it was answered.
"Hey Bro, wha'sup?"
"Dakota, this is Paul. We have a problem here. You know I don't have a medical degree, but I think Doug is having a stroke. He has an excruciating headache, blurred vision, and slurred speech. I'm not sure what else to look for."
"Ask him to raise both arms out to the side and see if he can hold them up equally."
"Please raise your arms, Babe." Paul requested. "No, out like jumping jacks."
Doug tried, but his left arm didn't seem to want to stay up.
"His left arm is kind of weak."
"If you can get him into the car, drive him to University Hospital immediately; don't wait for an ambulance. He may resist, but you have to
talk him into it. It's the best facility in the city and I know people there. I'll hang up and call to alert them and tell them what we suspect. Sometimes they think people in their 20's are too young for strokes and might not take you seriously, but they will listen to me. Please get there as quickly as you can without getting killed on the way."
"Come on, Babe. We need to get you to the hospital."
"Nah, I'm hokay."
"Dakota said we need to. You trust him, right?"
Doug nodded gingerly and winced from the pain caused by his head movement.
"Okay, you have to do this because you trust him and because you love me. You know he and I want the very best for you, right?"
"Yesh."
Paul grabbed the keys to the Solara and assisted Doug to the car. Doug wasn't very steady on his feet. Paul remembered that a problem with balance was another sign of a possible stroke. He was getting more worried by the minute.
He got Doug's seatbelt fastened and jumped into the driver's seat to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Fortunately, they wouldn't have to contend with rush-hour traffic.
Paul was careful, but didn't waste any time. He did run a couple of yellow lights, but only after glancing quickly to make sure they wouldn't get hit. In one case, the car behind him came through the light too. He hated to think of what would have happened if he'd have stopped quickly.
Not caring if he was breaking the rules, Paul pulled into the drive normally reserved for ambulances. He hadn't even shut off the ignition before two orderlies came with a cart to get Doug.
"This is Doug Hartke, right?"
"Yeah. Thanks for being here. What do I do with the car?"
One of the orderlies waved and called to a young man a few yards away.
"He's part of our valet service. He'll put your car in the ramp and bring the keys to emergency. Just follow us."
Paul had to hurry to catch up to the men who were transporting Doug. He stayed close so he wouldn't be left out of what was happening.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Chris Madison. Dakota was a fellow resident and I'm sure you and he have diagnosed this correctly. We'll start him on drugs as soon as we determine what kind of stoke it is. Do you know when the symptoms started?"
"Evidently it started at work. I got home a little after 2:00 and he was complaining that his head hurt. I can call his work and see if anyone knows when he left."
"No, that's okay. When was the last time you think he was okay? Was he doing well this morning?"
"Yes. And he seemed fine when he called me at noon."
While they were talking, two nurses had put in an IV so he'd be ready for the drug regimen that Dr. Madison had mentioned. Paul kept out of their way, but managed to hold Doug's right hand through the procedure.
Doug looked up at him and gave him a lopsided smile. Paul wanted to break down and cry, but kept it together for his lover's sake.
"Paul, you can go up to third floor with us and sit in the waiting room there while we run a few tests. When we get him settled in a room, you'll be able to watch over him if you want. Dakota said you're partners." Dr. Madison said.
"Thanks."
Paul sat in the small waiting room staring inattentively at the TV which was running an afternoon soap opera. He wouldn't have been able to concentrate even if he'd cared about the program. Eventually, he put his head in his hands and prayed.
It seemed like an eternity before Dr. Madison came into the room, but was actually only a few minutes.
"How is he Dr. Madison?"
"The prognosis is good, Paul. Please call me, Chris."
"Okay, please tell me what you know so far, Chris."
"Doug is doing well, all things considered. He's had an ischemic stroke instead of a hemorrhagic one and we started him on a tPA immediately. We were within the three hour window where it does the maximum of good."
"I'm glad, but I don't understand all the terms." Paul said.
"I'm sorry; I forgot that I wasn't talking to Dakota! Translated, it means that his stroke was caused by a clot or clots instead of by bleeding. Therefore, we were able to start a clot-dissolving drug that should work well in his case. Had there been bleeding in his brain, the drug could exacerbate the problem. Do you know if he's suffered any head trauma recently that could have caused a blood clot?"
"He hit his head on the overhead compartment of the plane on his last flight to D.C. He was waiting for the restroom when they encountered unexpected turbulence and the plane suddenly fell several feet. It seemed to be a minor bump. Do you think that could have caused it?"
"It's a plausible explanation, but we'll probably never know for sure. Sometimes these things just happen without warning. By the way, how did you figure out it was a stroke? Many people, even doctors, sometimes miss the symptoms in younger men and women."
"There was a short section about it in one of my psychology texts. It talked briefly about problems young stroke victims faced. That part wasn't required reading, but it interested me, so I looked into it."
"It's very fortunate you did. You no doubt have saved his quality of life and perhaps his life itself."
Paul shook his head.
"I'm not a hero."
"Yes you are. You've given him a chance to continue to be what he is. If Dakota wasn't bragging excessively, Doug is practically a genius in the realm of computers and electronic gadgets."
"Yeah, he's really smart. I don't understand what he sees in me."
"I do," Chris said. "He sees a caring young man who is intelligent in other areas and very sensitive to boot. When he learns what you've done for him, he's going to appreciate you even more."
"May I see him now?" Paul asked trying to take the focus off of him.
"I'll take you to his room, but I have to warn you that he won't be responsive. He's in a medically induced coma to help him heal. You may as well go home and come back later."
"Nope. I also read that people in comas can sometimes understand what you're saying to them. Or, at least they seem to be aware that someone is there for them. I plan to be there for Doug. Since we're legal partners so I assume there will be no hassle from the hospital."
"You're right. You're considered as family. I'll remind the nursing staff to make up the chair bed for you to sleep in tonight if you want."
"Thanks, doc – uh, Chris."
Doug looked pale, almost fragile, lying there in his hospital bed. Paul took his hand and stood beside him. He didn't have to keep up a brave façade at the moment, so he gave in to his feelings. Large, silent tears began to fall down his cheeks. Then big sobs wracked his body. His whole world was upside down.
For one fleeting moment, he was certain he felt Doug squeeze his hand very slightly. He thought it must have been an involuntary muscle movement, but he stopped crying.
"I love you Doug. You have to get well for me. I know you're in good hands here, but I'm gonna be here too - every minute that I can. They can give you medicine, but they can't give you love."
Again, he felt a little movement in Doug's hand. He was now convinced that Doug was responding, so he continued to talk to him. He sat down in the chair beside the bed and told about his last final exam and how he thought he'd done on it. He talked about the hot tub they were considering installing in the back yard. At times, he would run out of subject matter, but when he did, Doug would seem to attempt to tug at his hand.
Finally when he couldn't think of another thing to say, he started to sing show tunes that they both liked. He didn't know whether or not Doug could hear or understand, but it made him feel better.
He had barely finished singing "Somewhere" from "West Side Story" when he felt an arm on his shoulder. He turned around and jumped up to be embraced in a bear hug.
"Dakota! How...?"
"I have a buddy who's part owner of a private plane and he brought me over. The flight took less time than getting from the air-strip in this bloody traffic!
How is he?"
"Chris Madison says he's doing pretty well. They're keeping him in a drug-induced coma."
"Yeah, that's a common procedure. It's a way of letting the patient recover more quickly – not being stressed out by anything."
"Am I dumb to be singing to him?"
"Not at all! I'm sure he feels it sub-consciously and certainly the people in the hall will appreciate it."
"Oops! Was I that loud?"
"No, I'm teasing. It's allowed since you're a member of the family."
"Oh shit! I didn't phone Gwen!"
"No problem. I did that already. I knew you had your hands full and I had time on the flight. Dad's bringing her and they'll be here soon."
When Chris came to check on his patient again, he pulled Dakota into a fierce hug. The two doctors stood embracing and pounding each other's back as males often seem to do.
"Dakota, you ugly son of a gun, it's great to see you. You look just as good as ever, but you seem more mature. I hope you haven't gone and grown up on me."
"Not a chance," Dakota answered. "I'll bet I can still pin your butt wrestling on the floor."
"Thank God you're still crazy." Chris laughed.
"How is my brother, really? You're talking to a physician; you don't have to mince words."
"As I told Paul, he's doing very well. I want you to know that your brother-in-law's quick thinking made all the difference in the world. He got him here fast and alerted you so you could alert us. You know how precious every second is with an ischemic stroke."
"Were you able to start the tPA quickly enough?"
"We seem to have been well within the three-hour period – again, thanks to Paul."
"Guys, you're embarrassing me," Paul blushed.
"You're family; get over it!" Dakota said as he hugged Paul again.
Gwen and Tom came quietly into the room soon after Chris had left. They embraced Dakota and Paul by way of greeting.
"How is he?" Gwen whispered.
"He's doing well, and you don't have to whisper." Dakota told them.
"Though he's out, he may have some sense that you're here. Paul's been talking and singing to him."
"Dakota won't let me live down the singing," Paul grinned slightly.
"We know from the Mass you guys sang before Easter that you have a great voice. I'm sure he appreciates it."
Paul could have sworn he felt another squeeze on his hand from Doug.
Gwen persuaded Paul to go to the cafeteria to find something to eat for supper. He was hesitant to leave even for a moment, but she convinced him he had to keep of his strength for Doug's sake and he could see that she was right.
"We'll be here, and I'll send Tom down to find you if there's any change in his condition. I promise! Sit somewhere near the entrance."
Once he smelled the aroma of food, Paul realized that he was hungry. He found several things that he felt he would be able to eat under the circumstances, and sat down at an empty table near the door. As he was nearing the end of his meal, Pastor Stone spied him and came over to speak.
"Hi Paul, how are you?" he said cheerily.
"Not so good. Did you hear about Doug already?"
"No, I was here to see Miss Norris. She's been ailing and is very lonesome. What's with Doug?"
"He had a stroke this afternoon. Could you possibly come up to his room?"
"Of course! I had no idea he was here. The hospitals aren't allowed to notify us when members are brought in unless we are specifically requested – privacy laws, you know."
"I'm sorry; I didn't know that. I haven't had time to think clearly."
"I'm sure you've had your hands full. Let's go up as soon as you've finished.
Paul made quick work of the little that remained on his plate, and soon the two were headed up the elevator.
Reverend Stone remembered Doug's family from having met them previously and visited easily with them. He gave several positive examples of how people who'd had strokes had fully recovered.
He asked if they would like him to anoint Doug with oil. He had brought some as a comfort to the other patient he'd visited. The family all turned to Paul for his consent.
"You're his partner; it's your call," Gwen said.
"Yes, of course that would be fine," Paul agreed. "I want him to have every chance he can."
Reverend Stone took a small bottle of olive oil from his pocket, poured a bit into a tiny handmade bowl, and blessed it. Then he said a prayer for Doug, put a bit of the oil on his finger tip, and made the sign of the cross on Doug's forehead, blessing him in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. When he had finished, he asked if all would join hands in a circle around Doug's bed. He took one of Doug's hands and Paul had the other. Gwen, Tom, and Dakota filled in the circle between them.
Again, Dr. Stone prayed for healing for Doug. Again, Paul sensed that Doug knew on some level that they were there for him.
Dakota had to leave to get back to his hospital, so he bid the rest adieu around 6:30 right after Ashley made her appearance. She had been in a top-level meeting where she was not to be disturbed and hadn't received the message until nearly 5:00. She was quite upset that the secretary hadn't at least let her know about her brother's condition. She was going to see that company policy was modified so that it never happened to anyone else.
Gwen, Tom, and Ashley stayed until around 10:00, taking turns eating and going to the chapel to pray. Paul gave them a house key so they could sleep there. Since there were three bedrooms not in regular use, there was plenty of room. He told them there should be adequate food in the fridge for breakfast without their having to stop at a store on the way.
He was going to stay through the night because he wouldn't be able to sleep at home knowing Doug was in the hospital. They all agreed that he should do whatever he felt was best. They urged him to spend a little time away tomorrow to shower and rest while they kept watch over Doug.
After the hall lights were dimmed and the sounds of activity faded, Paul felt his strength waning. He sat back in the chair, but still held onto Doug's hand and tried to talk to him a bit. When he was nearly too sleepy to keep his eyes open, he thought of an old song he'd heard on one of Doug's movies from the 1980's. The title of the movie had been taken from an even older song by George and Ira Gershwin. It reminded him of how he felt in his relationship with Doug. He sang a few bars of the chorus very softly near Doug's ear.
There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me
This time, he was certain that Doug was responding. So, he sang another bit that he could remember.
Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead
Oh how I need
Someone to watch over me
Someone to watch over me
When he'd barely finished, sleep overtook him and he didn't awaken again until 5:30 when a nurse was in checking Doug's vital signs. He was vaguely aware that others had come and gone through the night, but he'd never completely become conscious during that time.
He arose stiffly from the chair to stretch his muscles.
"I'm sorry to have awakened you," the nurse said quietly.
"That's okay. I'm just glad you're here checking on him. How is he doing?"
"His vitals are all good – heart is strong, breathing is regular, blood pressure normal. Right now, he's behaving like any young man who's sleeping. The only difference is that his sleep is drug-induced."
"He has to get well!"
"I'm sure he will. He's in the best place in the city for recovery. Dr. Madison is the best in the tri-county area and possibly the state for treating strokes. We're lucky to have him."
"That's good. I'm not sure what I'd do if I lost Doug."
"Is he your brother?"
"No, my partner. He's been pushing for us to get married and I've been dragging my feet until I graduate next year, but I think I'm gonna marry him the minute he can stand long enough for the ceremony."
"He's lucky to have someone as faithful as you. Many people, male and female, seem to give up when the chips are down. `Until death do us part' seems to fly out the window during a severe illness these days.
I'm thinking the vows should be modified to say, `until some minor inconvenience comes along'."
"You sound cynical," Paul chided gently.
"Both my sons are divorced. Neither of their wives was willing to work things out. Divorce is way too easy."
"Perhaps you're right. I had no call to question your feelings."
"Maybe and maybe not. Either way, you've restored my faith in love to some extent. You're eager to marry the one you love even knowing it could involve years of sacrifice. I think those who would deny same-sex couples that right are uninformed if not completely crazy!"
"Thanks. We need more advocates like you."
When Doug's parents and sister came after breakfast, Paul consented to go home to shower and rest for a while. He really craved a hot shower after being in the same clothes for the past 24 hours. He was sure that his deodorant had failed long since.
He got home, stripped and took a long, hot shower to thoroughly wash away the odor of sweat and fear that clung to him since yesterday. Then he climbed naked into the bed he normally shared with Doug. After a minute or two of restlessness, he got up and dug through the clothes hamper to extract one of Doug's used T-shirts. He held it to his face. The scent of Doug's body still permeated it.
Back in bed with the shirt close enough for Paul to inhale its aroma; he fell into a sound sleep.
An hour later, he got up, made a quick breakfast and headed to the hospital.
Author's notes: Thanks to all who emailed this week: Jim C, Larry, Walt S, John McD, Rutabaga, Harry T, Trish R, Bill T, Bill K, Tom A, Bill T, Todd C, Lawrence N, Nels B, Paul R, Jim W, Vann, John K, Michael A, Paul F, Gary McC, Steve, and Nick C.
Sorry to have left you with a kind of cliffhanger.
Celebrations this week! DADT finally overturned! Christmas is coming! Hopefully the New Year will be a good one for all of us. Oh, one more thing. The expression that it's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey is intended to be slightly naughty just as we always thought! Check on Wikipedia for the story of its evolution. It is NOT about cannon balls and a brass holder!!!
David