A/N: It all belongs to the genius Jonathan Larson, though I wish it
belonged to me. Thank you for all your reviews on chapter one. I know its
not really good from a technical stand point, I'm just writing down what I
feel.
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At this point I don't remember much. As they rushed Mark into the ER, he fell unconscious. They asked me lots of questions but I couldn't think straight to answer them. For the first time I realized I might lose Mark. It didn't seem possible. I, I. loved him. He was the one who patiently put up with me as I destroyed his property and screamed at him. He always knew what to do, knew what to say at Mimi's funeral, and knew how to make me feel better. Now there was nothing I could do to make him feel better.
Following the gurney, a nurse at a desk stopped me. She told me that only family could go into the ER. I tried to explain that we were brothers, but she wouldn't buy it. Then a male nurse walked up and assured the first nurse we were in fact family. Then he introduced himself to me as Nick and that he understood what family really meant. He led me to the ER room.
There were lots of doctors and nurses working over Mark. Apparently, he was now conscious and coughing up blood. He looked so scared and helpless while they were poking and prodding on him. I wanted to leave, but that was out of the question. I wasn't there for April and I wasn't there for Mimi at the hospital, but I had learned my lesson. Swallowing my fears I went to him and took his hand. He was screaming and struggling wildly as another IV line was inserted and injections were administered. One nurse put a breathing mask on him and another was taking off his clothes. I asked him if he wanted me to leave, but he shook his head and squeezed my hand tighter. I just held his hand and rubbed his hair as they were pricking him and sampling him.
They said they had to take his temperature, but couldn't take it orally because of the mask. So they rolled him on his side as he started to cry. The look in his eyes as he looked at me was unforgettable. They spread his cheeks and inserted a thermometer into his butt. The embarrassment and fear of the situation was too much. But he was way to weak and tired to struggle anymore. I leaned in close and did the only thing I knew to do; I started singing. My voice was weak but it didn't seem to matter to Mark. He calmed a little and in a minute it was all over.
Then the vomiting started again and they had to take the mask off. The next ordeal was not as pleasant. Nick pulled down the sheet off Mark's front and produced a mass of tubing. He looked at us apologetically. Mark started squirming and hid his face. He knew where it was headed. As the nurse cleaned him up, Mark motioned for me to sing again. So I did. I knew he was nervous. I held his hand and rubbed his leg as the nurse spread his legs apart. She put in a Foley catheter. He grimaced and squeezed my hand awfully hard so apparently it really hurt. Then Nick started pushing around up there to make sure the tube wasn't lodged incorrectly and Mark finally screamed "STOP THAT ALREADY!" He was so humiliated and he couldn't hide the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. I turned away to hide mine. Nick said it was necessary but he was sorry and covered him up. With two more painful shots to the buttocks, Nick explained that Mark's breathing was improving so he would be getting his own room.
Nick rolled Mark to room 541 and helped us get settled. He put an oxygen monitor on Mark's finger and made sure everything else was ok. He also helped Mark put on a hospital gown. Five minutes later, Mark was asleep. I was a wreck. Nick came in again to make sure everything was ok and put on the oxygen mask. "It will help while he is sleeping," I was told. Nick asked me some more questions about Mark. I told him he hadn't eaten any funny foods and didn't have AIDS, though I did. Nick asked us if we were together. I don't know why, but that made me cry even more. But I assured him we weren't. He then asked me if there was anyone I needed to call. Somehow I got out "Maureen" and explained her number was in the bag. Nick was kind enough to call the number and explain what was happening.
I went over to the bed, and just watched him breathe. Mark slept though the day and the night. A nurse came in in the middle of the night to make sure everything was well. I asked her what was wrong with Mark but I didn't remember what she said. I had forgotten to ask Nick. Eventually I dozed off and when I awoke I found a quick nap had done me well. I felt better about things. I found Mark's charts and tried to make them out. Basically no one had any idea what was wrong, but it didn't seem to be life threatening. It was such a relief. Just staring at him and watching him live was such a joy. My Mark.
Once Mark had told me that he had homosexual feelings towards me. I couldn't handle that. I was straight and I sure told him so. Right before I ran out of the house and didn't come back for a week. When I came home, he was waiting with my AZT and help to get over the massive withdrawal. And I realized it didn't matter he was gay. That's the way things were. It didn't really change anything. Now, I wonder if maybe I have the same feelings. I mean, no way, I'm straight, but I. I love him.
When Mark woke up the next morning, the catheter was hurting him something awful. He said he was strong enough to pee in a bucket. The hospital was extra busy because of a major fire and we couldn't get a nurse who cared. Nick was off duty. While I held his other hand, Mark pulled out the catheter, almost bringing tears to Mark. I admire him; apparently it hurt to take out as well. Whatever medicine he was on wore out and he started vomiting and coughing again. There was no one to clean him up except me.
"Roge, no need to do that. I'm just gonna puke again."
Putting on a smile I said, "Stop talking you old windbag, it's the least I can do for my best friend."
After an hour of vomiting, Mark wasn't even puking food, just stomach acid. And he could barely talk from all of that acid on his throat. But it was ok. I read him some magazines that were in our room and sang him a song. He seemed content and happy to know that Maureen and Joanne were coming. He was dozing off again when he uncomfortably shifted and squeezed my hand.
"You ok Marky?" I asked.
"Ummm. I'm ok. Could you get a nurse?"
"Sure I can try," I assured him. "Will you be ok alone here for a second?"
He nodded and I left on my quest. The nurses' station looked abandoned and no one was in the halls. An elderly hospital visitor said there was only one nurse on the floor and she was busy with critical care cases. I thanked the woman (who reminded me of my grandma) and went back to the room. When I walked in, I could smell it. The shamed look on Mark's face explained it all. He looked up, saw I was alone, and started crying.
With his voice breaking he said, "I hate being in the hospital! It's just so humiliating. They talk to you like you're a child and the. then don't help you."
I ran to him and gave him a big hug. I just let him cry.
"No its horrible. I can't even look at you. I'm helpless and ashamed to have anyone see me like this. I'm a grown man and I'm now covered in my own wastes and vomit and blood and no one's here! You've seen me naked now Roger. They poked into my butt and my crotch, I couldn't do anything about it. It's horrible!"
"Mark, honey, its ok. I am here. You're sick, you're weak, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. Listen to me, I'm your best friend and you are mine. There's nothing to hide. We've seen the best and the worst of each other ok?"
He nodded, but looked like a small, scared child.
"Here's the deal, you weren't the only one to see a loved one get sick as a child. I had to take care of my dad when he was bedridden. I can wash you up and change your sheets. I'll do it for you if you want me to, or we can wait for a nurse."
"Roge, I don't know what to say. Thank you. ::breaks up:: I. its just. thanks." "Its ok Mark, no words. Its ok. You were there for me when I got AIDS and when I lost April and then Mimi. Those times were all hard for you too, but I wasn't there for you. This is like payback."
In the cabinets I found a tube of hospital soap/shampoo, fresh sheets and a new hospital gown. Gently I pulled away the soiled sheets and old gown away from Mark's body. I slowly washed Mark's small body. He'd been getting skinnier. He moaned when I washed his backside. I forgot it would still be tender from the injections he got in the ER. When I washed his front side he got a little excited if ya know what I mean. He was very embarrassed, but it was ok. I told him there was nothing to hide, I knew his secret.
The truth was there was something to hide. While Mark was so sure of his sexuality, I wasn't.
I finished washing him, patted him dry and changed his sheets. Then I broke down. I felt so bad, but I had to get out of the room. I told Mark through my tears I'd be back. I left him alone in his hospital room, calling out my name, begging me to come back.
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At this point I don't remember much. As they rushed Mark into the ER, he fell unconscious. They asked me lots of questions but I couldn't think straight to answer them. For the first time I realized I might lose Mark. It didn't seem possible. I, I. loved him. He was the one who patiently put up with me as I destroyed his property and screamed at him. He always knew what to do, knew what to say at Mimi's funeral, and knew how to make me feel better. Now there was nothing I could do to make him feel better.
Following the gurney, a nurse at a desk stopped me. She told me that only family could go into the ER. I tried to explain that we were brothers, but she wouldn't buy it. Then a male nurse walked up and assured the first nurse we were in fact family. Then he introduced himself to me as Nick and that he understood what family really meant. He led me to the ER room.
There were lots of doctors and nurses working over Mark. Apparently, he was now conscious and coughing up blood. He looked so scared and helpless while they were poking and prodding on him. I wanted to leave, but that was out of the question. I wasn't there for April and I wasn't there for Mimi at the hospital, but I had learned my lesson. Swallowing my fears I went to him and took his hand. He was screaming and struggling wildly as another IV line was inserted and injections were administered. One nurse put a breathing mask on him and another was taking off his clothes. I asked him if he wanted me to leave, but he shook his head and squeezed my hand tighter. I just held his hand and rubbed his hair as they were pricking him and sampling him.
They said they had to take his temperature, but couldn't take it orally because of the mask. So they rolled him on his side as he started to cry. The look in his eyes as he looked at me was unforgettable. They spread his cheeks and inserted a thermometer into his butt. The embarrassment and fear of the situation was too much. But he was way to weak and tired to struggle anymore. I leaned in close and did the only thing I knew to do; I started singing. My voice was weak but it didn't seem to matter to Mark. He calmed a little and in a minute it was all over.
Then the vomiting started again and they had to take the mask off. The next ordeal was not as pleasant. Nick pulled down the sheet off Mark's front and produced a mass of tubing. He looked at us apologetically. Mark started squirming and hid his face. He knew where it was headed. As the nurse cleaned him up, Mark motioned for me to sing again. So I did. I knew he was nervous. I held his hand and rubbed his leg as the nurse spread his legs apart. She put in a Foley catheter. He grimaced and squeezed my hand awfully hard so apparently it really hurt. Then Nick started pushing around up there to make sure the tube wasn't lodged incorrectly and Mark finally screamed "STOP THAT ALREADY!" He was so humiliated and he couldn't hide the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. I turned away to hide mine. Nick said it was necessary but he was sorry and covered him up. With two more painful shots to the buttocks, Nick explained that Mark's breathing was improving so he would be getting his own room.
Nick rolled Mark to room 541 and helped us get settled. He put an oxygen monitor on Mark's finger and made sure everything else was ok. He also helped Mark put on a hospital gown. Five minutes later, Mark was asleep. I was a wreck. Nick came in again to make sure everything was ok and put on the oxygen mask. "It will help while he is sleeping," I was told. Nick asked me some more questions about Mark. I told him he hadn't eaten any funny foods and didn't have AIDS, though I did. Nick asked us if we were together. I don't know why, but that made me cry even more. But I assured him we weren't. He then asked me if there was anyone I needed to call. Somehow I got out "Maureen" and explained her number was in the bag. Nick was kind enough to call the number and explain what was happening.
I went over to the bed, and just watched him breathe. Mark slept though the day and the night. A nurse came in in the middle of the night to make sure everything was well. I asked her what was wrong with Mark but I didn't remember what she said. I had forgotten to ask Nick. Eventually I dozed off and when I awoke I found a quick nap had done me well. I felt better about things. I found Mark's charts and tried to make them out. Basically no one had any idea what was wrong, but it didn't seem to be life threatening. It was such a relief. Just staring at him and watching him live was such a joy. My Mark.
Once Mark had told me that he had homosexual feelings towards me. I couldn't handle that. I was straight and I sure told him so. Right before I ran out of the house and didn't come back for a week. When I came home, he was waiting with my AZT and help to get over the massive withdrawal. And I realized it didn't matter he was gay. That's the way things were. It didn't really change anything. Now, I wonder if maybe I have the same feelings. I mean, no way, I'm straight, but I. I love him.
When Mark woke up the next morning, the catheter was hurting him something awful. He said he was strong enough to pee in a bucket. The hospital was extra busy because of a major fire and we couldn't get a nurse who cared. Nick was off duty. While I held his other hand, Mark pulled out the catheter, almost bringing tears to Mark. I admire him; apparently it hurt to take out as well. Whatever medicine he was on wore out and he started vomiting and coughing again. There was no one to clean him up except me.
"Roge, no need to do that. I'm just gonna puke again."
Putting on a smile I said, "Stop talking you old windbag, it's the least I can do for my best friend."
After an hour of vomiting, Mark wasn't even puking food, just stomach acid. And he could barely talk from all of that acid on his throat. But it was ok. I read him some magazines that were in our room and sang him a song. He seemed content and happy to know that Maureen and Joanne were coming. He was dozing off again when he uncomfortably shifted and squeezed my hand.
"You ok Marky?" I asked.
"Ummm. I'm ok. Could you get a nurse?"
"Sure I can try," I assured him. "Will you be ok alone here for a second?"
He nodded and I left on my quest. The nurses' station looked abandoned and no one was in the halls. An elderly hospital visitor said there was only one nurse on the floor and she was busy with critical care cases. I thanked the woman (who reminded me of my grandma) and went back to the room. When I walked in, I could smell it. The shamed look on Mark's face explained it all. He looked up, saw I was alone, and started crying.
With his voice breaking he said, "I hate being in the hospital! It's just so humiliating. They talk to you like you're a child and the. then don't help you."
I ran to him and gave him a big hug. I just let him cry.
"No its horrible. I can't even look at you. I'm helpless and ashamed to have anyone see me like this. I'm a grown man and I'm now covered in my own wastes and vomit and blood and no one's here! You've seen me naked now Roger. They poked into my butt and my crotch, I couldn't do anything about it. It's horrible!"
"Mark, honey, its ok. I am here. You're sick, you're weak, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. Listen to me, I'm your best friend and you are mine. There's nothing to hide. We've seen the best and the worst of each other ok?"
He nodded, but looked like a small, scared child.
"Here's the deal, you weren't the only one to see a loved one get sick as a child. I had to take care of my dad when he was bedridden. I can wash you up and change your sheets. I'll do it for you if you want me to, or we can wait for a nurse."
"Roge, I don't know what to say. Thank you. ::breaks up:: I. its just. thanks." "Its ok Mark, no words. Its ok. You were there for me when I got AIDS and when I lost April and then Mimi. Those times were all hard for you too, but I wasn't there for you. This is like payback."
In the cabinets I found a tube of hospital soap/shampoo, fresh sheets and a new hospital gown. Gently I pulled away the soiled sheets and old gown away from Mark's body. I slowly washed Mark's small body. He'd been getting skinnier. He moaned when I washed his backside. I forgot it would still be tender from the injections he got in the ER. When I washed his front side he got a little excited if ya know what I mean. He was very embarrassed, but it was ok. I told him there was nothing to hide, I knew his secret.
The truth was there was something to hide. While Mark was so sure of his sexuality, I wasn't.
I finished washing him, patted him dry and changed his sheets. Then I broke down. I felt so bad, but I had to get out of the room. I told Mark through my tears I'd be back. I left him alone in his hospital room, calling out my name, begging me to come back.
