Nosocomephobia Revisited
Content warning: mild mentions of death, none actually in the chapter.
Lars regretted not having brought anything to do while he sat in the hospital waiting room. He had no intention of touching the magazines stacked on the end table (He was not even interested in home design or gardening, thank you very much). He had brought his headphones to listen to, but he couldn't decide on anything to listen to, nothing seemed distracting enough to zone him out from his anxieties.
For the last four days, he'd mentally tried to prepare himself for this, to repeat that yes, he could be worried, but everything was going to be fine, the doctors knew what they were doing, and this procedure was going to go well.
Lars checked his phone, seeing Sadie had messaged him.
How's it going? Ronaldo ok?
He texted back, It's fine. They just wheeled him in to surgery.
He wasn't freaking out was he?
No but he was telling me that if he died or if the doctors injected alien parasites in him while he was out, I could avenge him lol, Lars managed to snicker a bit, thinking of his friend handing him his laptop over, all sagelike. He had said that in the event of his death, Lars would have access to all of his passwords to continue on his legacy.
LOL ok lemme know when he's out and ill come visit after i close up the shop with Steven.
Cool. sorry for skipping out btw
She responded pretty quickly, its fine, he needs someone to see after waking up
Lars still wasn't 100% sure why he had volunteered to wait it out at the hospital. Yeah, he and Ronaldo were datemates, but he could have just been like Sadie and waited until after work to see him, and the Fryman family could have easily had the shop closed for the day out of support for the eldest child. But Lars had to suddenly pipe up, "You don't have to close the shop, I'll keep tabs on him for the day!", like a complete kiss-ass. Lars was kicking himself on the inside. On the other hand, he probably would have been a lot more nervous if he was stuck in there with Ronaldo's father and little brother, the latter probably would have been a nervous little pile of whining and snot, and Ronaldo's dad would have tried to 'play it cool' with his older son's friend. Good grief.
About four months ago, Ronaldo had been having shortness of breath, sudden exhaustion, and broke into sweats. Lars had expressed concern, and Ronaldo insisted he was fine. When he started having an irregular heartbeat and some chest pain, that was when he had started to worry about himself, and when he had suddenly passed out one morning, his father had no choice but to take him to their family doctor.
After a week of tests, questions, and examinations, they'd found a congenital heart defect that had been undetected until then. Peedee had a bit of a minor episode when his dad had casually noted that it was something that seemed to run in the family, since he had suffered from it as a child, and his father and grandfather too. Ronaldo was just relieved it wasn't aliens and their wiretapping technology in his system.
The doctor had continued on to say that in order for the defect to be repaired, he would need surgery, and Ronaldo had admittedly panicked momentarily, not liking the idea of anyone cutting him open. But quickly regaining the understanding this would be necessary if he wanted to have a healthy life, and continue his passion of exploration, Ronaldo agreed to it.
Lars was visibly stunned when the other told him about the surgery, only four days in advance, and asked him why he didn't tell him sooner.
"You hate hospitals. I didn't want you to worry about me," Ronaldo had admitted while they had sat on the Fryman family's living room couch, watching TV.
It was a simple procedure, Ronaldo had explained, and that once it was over, he'd be fine.
But anything regarding such a vital organ isn't going to be that simple, Ron. Lars had countered, starting to list off all the possibilities of things that could go wrong, and Ronaldo had to shut him up fairly quickly. He was well aware that there was risks. Any operation had its risks. But Ronaldo had always lived off of facing the risky and venturing into the unknown. He'd stay relatively brave about this too.
Lars had taken up the invitation to stay overnight the night before the surgery, to ease Ronaldo's supposed nervousness, and in his case, to ease his own worries. They bonded over blasting monsters on the TV screen, surfing the internet, and even laughing over stupid questions sent to Ronaldo's blog. Following Ronaldo's announcement regarding his surgery, an anonymous commenter had posted 'well maybe if you didn't weigh so much, you wouldn't have had this problem', and Ronaldo was all too smug in presenting the definition of 'congenital', and informing them that he had in fact been involuntarily losing weight because of this trouble. And Lars secretly felt a little bad he hadn't noticed more of the symptoms the other had been having, wondering if he should have been noticing the other's shirts and shorts becoming looser and baggier.
Almost all their worries had faded away when they both dozed off in front of the TV while the X-Files was on.
Back in the hospital waiting room, a nurse said everything was going well, and Ronaldo was still in surgery. Lars was still unable to shake his anxieties, and decided to take a break, and went outside, deciding he needed a coffee and a smoke. In the designated smoking area by the coffee shop, he tried to let his limbs relax a little, which they did, but his head certainly wouldn't.
Lars had always hated hospitals. Ronaldo wasn't lying about that. Lars had despised hospitals. He didn't mind doctors in a doctor's office, but he couldn't stand doctors in a hospital.
Every time he walked into a hospital, his mind would always replay the same feelings of despair and fear he had when he was a young boy.
When Lars was still small, his mother had grown very sick. Every so often, she'd seem to get better, then she would get worse weeks later.
Around the time Lars and Ronnie had their fight, she had been getting worse and was sent to the hospital. Lars had initially thought she would be alright. But then he saw everything. The tubes, the machines, her in that bed, looking helpless.
He'd visited every day, watching her get weaker and weaker. More and more machines seemed to be coming in without any explanation. More medicines, and more nurses coming and going.
And before he could even comprehend it all, she was gone, and Lars couldn't even say goodbye as he was sent out of the room, machines blaring and doctors rushing.
He didn't want to even imagine what would happen if the same thing happened to Ronaldo. The boy had basically been his first friend as a child, and now they were each other's datemate. If he lost Ronaldo, he would have nobody he could text at night with his half-asleep drowsy thoughts. He had Sadie, sure, but with Ronaldo, he felt most comfortably expressing his own hidden weirdness. Like his thoughts about scorpions being part cyborg, and that he was on a mission to rid the neighborhoods of tacky lawn ornaments. The stuff he never discussed with Sadie.
He would have nobody to test his food on. Ronaldo would eat absolutely anything, and get so excitable over it, it was something Lars loved to see, someone who loved another hobby of his that much.
He wouldn't have anyone to lay on with such a comfortable body as Ron did.
Or someone who was as warm to cuddle.
Or someone who would cheer him up with the most delightful of laughs.
Or someone whose glasses he could steal, and admire their face without.
Lars didn't want the people he cared about to disappear in a place that was supposed to help them.
He soon began thinking back to before he lost everything. How whenever he visited this place, it would be for occasions where he wouldn't have to weep. Rather, where he could laugh.
When he was younger, Ronnie, the more outgoing one, was often prone to getting himself into lots of trouble, and would often end up in the hospital for things like broken arms, legs, concussions, tonsils, or a baby brother. And every time, Lars would come visit him, activities on hand so they wouldn't get bored. They would read comic books together, Lars would read from their favorite books, and they would eat popsicles until the box was empty and their hands and mouths were sticky. And when it was time to go home, Lars would be sad only because he couldn't be with his friend until the next day.
After what seemed like forever, he was jostled from his thoughts by a nurse calling out his friend's name, in case anyone was there to see him. Lars stiffly got up, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"So the surgery went fine, no problems," she listed, "He's awake in recovery right now, and after he gets some rest, we'll keep him here overnight to make sure everything is normal, and then we'll have him out of here by tomorrow afternoon."
"OK, cool," Lars shrugged, appearing calm on the outside, but was crushed with relief on the inside, "Can I see him?"
"Of course," she smiled, and led him down the hallway. The quietness of the hall disappeared as they got nearer to the door, and Lars could hear Ronaldo complaining loudly.
"What do you mean no ghost hunting?", he whined to the doctor, looking indignant.
"I'm sorry Mr. Fryman, but I highly advise against any rigorous activity for the next eight weeks. You don't want to over exert yourself so much until your heart has a full chance to recover."
Ronaldo grumbled under his breath, "Right right, fine," he sighed, and crossed his arms, pouting like a kid. It took him a second to notice Lars had poked his head in, "Oh! Lars!", he smiled.
"You look awake," the other smirked a bit as he walked in, over to the bed, sitting on the edge, "You're not tired?"
"I am," Ronaldo shrugged, "But I can sleep later. How long have you waited?"
"Five hours," Lars rolled his shoulders, "I was in the waiting room for a bit, then they said you were still in surgery so I went out to get coffee and a smoke, and came back."
"Oh," he yawned, "Sorry to make you wait so long."
"Yeah, fuck your heart," Lars chuckled, and glanced at Ronaldo's hospital gown, "Can I see your scar?"
"Yeah, just don't touch it," Ronaldo snickered, lifting his gown up, "It's still tender."
Lars looked over the bright red line right down the middle of the other's chest, and grinned, "What a beaut."
"I'm afraid to laugh and break it open," Ronaldo admitted.
"So I can't tickle you now?", Lars smirked, and scooted over, laying back so he was right on the edge of the mattress, and let his cheek rest against Ronaldo's soft chest, "You're warm."
"I think that's from me breaking into a sweat earlier. I didn't react too well to the first medicine they put me on."
"Really?", Lars frowned, sitting up, "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," he assured, shoving Lars back down gently, "Don't you worry about me. I'm not gonna disappear in here."
Lars felt a twinge in his chest, knowing Ronaldo was addressing his fear of hospitals. He sighed, "I know you aren't," and reached an arm across the other's soft tummy, giving a squeeze, "If you die, I'll dance on your grave and fuck your corpse."
"All at once?"
"Yes."
Ronaldo gave a snort, then slapped his boyfriend's head, "Jerk."
"What?", Lars laughed.
"I told you not to make me laugh."
"Sorry," he snorted, and kissed Ronaldo's chest right over his heart, feeling how warm the other was on his lips. He was so glad he could feel him there, it made his fears melt away almost instantly.
During a lull in their conversation, Sadie had texted Lars, asking for an update.
He had sent a picture of themselves grinning.
Everything's Great.
