Chapter 8
The cruise ship docked at St. Croix later that afternoon. Monica, leaving the boat to meet Daniel, saw Dr. Mills exit from Chandler's cabin. With several long strides, she reached him.
"Hello. How...how is Chandler?"
"About the same. He's still running a fever. I'm going to check on him again in a couple of hours. If his temperature isn't normal, I'm going to have him seen at St. Croix Medical Center."
"May I see him?"
"I have to advise against that. I gave him a stronger medication. He's probably sleeping. He needs to rest."
Dr. Mills continued on his way; Monica lingered outside Chandler's room.
"Feel better and get some rest," she finally whispered against the door, vowing that she would visit him that evening.
**
"We're definitely not having as much fun as we had in St. Thomas," Daniel commented to Monica, as they walked along one of the more popular beaches.
"What? I'm sorry. I have a lot on my mind."
"I know. It's okay. Why don't we go to the Seafood House for an early dinner? Afterwards, we can have a drink somewhere, hear a little music, or head back to the ship."
"Sure," she said, still distracted. "That sounds fine."
**
When Joey entered Central Perk, Rachel, Ross and Phoebe bombarded him with questions about Chandler.
"I told Ross and Phoebe what happened," Rachel explained.
"So," Phoebe asked, "did you talk to him? How is he?"
"He called me this morning. He sounded okay, not great, but said he'd gotten some sleep."
"I'm so relieved to hear that," Rachel said.
Ross and Phoebe nodded in agreement.
"He also told me that Monica knows. They spent some time together yesterday, but I gotta be honest. He didn't sound too hopeful."
"What is wrong with those two?" Phoebe asked, shaking her head. "Is Chandler going to have to die before Monica comes to her senses?"
Knowing that Phoebe claimed to have psychic abilities, the others looked at her to see if she thought she'd just had a premonition.
"I didn't just say that," she exclaimed, but she knew it was too late. The prophetic words had already been spoken, and her friends had heard them.
**
Monica barely made it through dinner. When Daniel wanted to extend their evening, she declined.
"I'm restless," she said, "and I know that's not your fault, but I really feel the need to get back on the ship. I can't explain it, but the thought is nagging at me and won't go away."
"You're concerned about Chandler," he stated. "I understand."
When they neared the pier where the "Coral Sea" was docked, Monica saw red lights flashing and what looked to be an ambulance and a fire engine.
"There's something going on with our ship," she said, dread taking root in the pit of her stomach.
She took off running; Daniel tried to keep up with her. When she reached the dock, she spotted Dr. Mills.
"Doctor, what's going on? Who's in that ambulance?"
"Chandler," Dr. Mills answered, his tone serious. "He had another very acute attack. He's unconscious. We're taking him to St. Croix Medical Center."
"I need to be with him!"
Daniel caught up to Monica and asked what had happened.
"Chandler's in that ambulance!" she cried. "I have to be with him!"
"I can't let you ride in the ambulance, but there's a taxi," Dr. Mills said. "Tell the driver you need to get to St. Croix Medical Center. Go to the Emergency Room. I'll see you there."
Daniel flagged down the taxi; he and Monica hopped in. Monica shuddered when she heard the sharp wail of the siren as the ambulance took off at high speed.
"I had a bad feeling this whole day," she said, staring out the side window. "Why did I leave him? Why didn't I check on him? Why wasn't I with him?"
Daniel tried to comfort her; she withdrew more into herself and huddled against the corner of the back seat.
When they arrived at the hospital, Monica jumped out of the cab, leaving Daniel to pay their fare. All she could think about was finding the Emergency Room.
She reached the nurses' station, and in between trying to catch her breath, she asked about Chandler.
"Dr. Mills is in with him. He'll give you an update as soon as he can. Please take a seat in the waiting area."
Monica thanked the nurse. She looked at the chairs but knew she wouldn't be able to sit. She paced back and forth and bit the nail on her index finger while she waited for Dr. Mills.
"Any word?" Daniel asked.
He'd finally found her and extended a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee.
"No," she said, taking the cup without even realizing it. "Chandler has to be all right. He just has to!"
"Why don't you try to sit?"
"I can't!" she snapped. "I'm too nervous. I want to be with him. I want to help him. I want...I want him to know he's not alone."
Monica saw Dr. Mills emerge near the nurses' station and raced to him, spilling coffee along the way and not caring.
"How is he?"
Tears filled her eyes when she saw the grave look the doctor wore.
"I'm sorry to say that Chandler is in very critical condition. We're prepping him for surgery. He has a severe infection in his gall bladder. It needs to be removed."
"And then he'll be okay, right?" Monica asked, her eyes pleading with the doctor for her words to be true.
"He's very weak, and he's not responding to the medication. We'd like more time to get him stabilized before we take him into surgery, but we don't have that luxury. The infection is spreading. I'll keep you posted. If you believe in the power of prayer, I suggest you say one for your friend."
"This can't be happening," Monica said, more to herself than anyone. She leaned on the counter for support. "There are so many things I still need to tell him. I thought we had time. I thought I needed more time. Why didn't I just tell him? Why have I wasted so damn much time?!"
"Sshh, Monica, calm down," Daniel said.
"No!" she cried, looking at Daniel, her blue eyes darkening with wild fear. "You don't understand. Because of my stupidity and my pride, Chandler and I never talked. Not about the things that matter. I never told him how much he means to me. I never told him what happened before we broke up. I never told him how much I still love him."
Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks.
"I...I never told him about the baby I lost. And now, it might be too late. He may never know about our precious little angel, and it's all my fault!"
The cruise ship docked at St. Croix later that afternoon. Monica, leaving the boat to meet Daniel, saw Dr. Mills exit from Chandler's cabin. With several long strides, she reached him.
"Hello. How...how is Chandler?"
"About the same. He's still running a fever. I'm going to check on him again in a couple of hours. If his temperature isn't normal, I'm going to have him seen at St. Croix Medical Center."
"May I see him?"
"I have to advise against that. I gave him a stronger medication. He's probably sleeping. He needs to rest."
Dr. Mills continued on his way; Monica lingered outside Chandler's room.
"Feel better and get some rest," she finally whispered against the door, vowing that she would visit him that evening.
**
"We're definitely not having as much fun as we had in St. Thomas," Daniel commented to Monica, as they walked along one of the more popular beaches.
"What? I'm sorry. I have a lot on my mind."
"I know. It's okay. Why don't we go to the Seafood House for an early dinner? Afterwards, we can have a drink somewhere, hear a little music, or head back to the ship."
"Sure," she said, still distracted. "That sounds fine."
**
When Joey entered Central Perk, Rachel, Ross and Phoebe bombarded him with questions about Chandler.
"I told Ross and Phoebe what happened," Rachel explained.
"So," Phoebe asked, "did you talk to him? How is he?"
"He called me this morning. He sounded okay, not great, but said he'd gotten some sleep."
"I'm so relieved to hear that," Rachel said.
Ross and Phoebe nodded in agreement.
"He also told me that Monica knows. They spent some time together yesterday, but I gotta be honest. He didn't sound too hopeful."
"What is wrong with those two?" Phoebe asked, shaking her head. "Is Chandler going to have to die before Monica comes to her senses?"
Knowing that Phoebe claimed to have psychic abilities, the others looked at her to see if she thought she'd just had a premonition.
"I didn't just say that," she exclaimed, but she knew it was too late. The prophetic words had already been spoken, and her friends had heard them.
**
Monica barely made it through dinner. When Daniel wanted to extend their evening, she declined.
"I'm restless," she said, "and I know that's not your fault, but I really feel the need to get back on the ship. I can't explain it, but the thought is nagging at me and won't go away."
"You're concerned about Chandler," he stated. "I understand."
When they neared the pier where the "Coral Sea" was docked, Monica saw red lights flashing and what looked to be an ambulance and a fire engine.
"There's something going on with our ship," she said, dread taking root in the pit of her stomach.
She took off running; Daniel tried to keep up with her. When she reached the dock, she spotted Dr. Mills.
"Doctor, what's going on? Who's in that ambulance?"
"Chandler," Dr. Mills answered, his tone serious. "He had another very acute attack. He's unconscious. We're taking him to St. Croix Medical Center."
"I need to be with him!"
Daniel caught up to Monica and asked what had happened.
"Chandler's in that ambulance!" she cried. "I have to be with him!"
"I can't let you ride in the ambulance, but there's a taxi," Dr. Mills said. "Tell the driver you need to get to St. Croix Medical Center. Go to the Emergency Room. I'll see you there."
Daniel flagged down the taxi; he and Monica hopped in. Monica shuddered when she heard the sharp wail of the siren as the ambulance took off at high speed.
"I had a bad feeling this whole day," she said, staring out the side window. "Why did I leave him? Why didn't I check on him? Why wasn't I with him?"
Daniel tried to comfort her; she withdrew more into herself and huddled against the corner of the back seat.
When they arrived at the hospital, Monica jumped out of the cab, leaving Daniel to pay their fare. All she could think about was finding the Emergency Room.
She reached the nurses' station, and in between trying to catch her breath, she asked about Chandler.
"Dr. Mills is in with him. He'll give you an update as soon as he can. Please take a seat in the waiting area."
Monica thanked the nurse. She looked at the chairs but knew she wouldn't be able to sit. She paced back and forth and bit the nail on her index finger while she waited for Dr. Mills.
"Any word?" Daniel asked.
He'd finally found her and extended a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee.
"No," she said, taking the cup without even realizing it. "Chandler has to be all right. He just has to!"
"Why don't you try to sit?"
"I can't!" she snapped. "I'm too nervous. I want to be with him. I want to help him. I want...I want him to know he's not alone."
Monica saw Dr. Mills emerge near the nurses' station and raced to him, spilling coffee along the way and not caring.
"How is he?"
Tears filled her eyes when she saw the grave look the doctor wore.
"I'm sorry to say that Chandler is in very critical condition. We're prepping him for surgery. He has a severe infection in his gall bladder. It needs to be removed."
"And then he'll be okay, right?" Monica asked, her eyes pleading with the doctor for her words to be true.
"He's very weak, and he's not responding to the medication. We'd like more time to get him stabilized before we take him into surgery, but we don't have that luxury. The infection is spreading. I'll keep you posted. If you believe in the power of prayer, I suggest you say one for your friend."
"This can't be happening," Monica said, more to herself than anyone. She leaned on the counter for support. "There are so many things I still need to tell him. I thought we had time. I thought I needed more time. Why didn't I just tell him? Why have I wasted so damn much time?!"
"Sshh, Monica, calm down," Daniel said.
"No!" she cried, looking at Daniel, her blue eyes darkening with wild fear. "You don't understand. Because of my stupidity and my pride, Chandler and I never talked. Not about the things that matter. I never told him how much he means to me. I never told him what happened before we broke up. I never told him how much I still love him."
Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks.
"I...I never told him about the baby I lost. And now, it might be too late. He may never know about our precious little angel, and it's all my fault!"