The Theory
Chapter XVI
I have a friend I've never seen
He hides his head inside a dream
But only love can break your heart
Try to be sure right from the start
Yes, only love can break your heart
What if your world should fall apart?
("Only Love Can Break Your Heart" by Neil Young)
"Order a blood gas and an Upper GI series, and page Dr. Thomason," the dark-haired attendant barked, as the paramedics and nurses wheeled the gurney through the stark white halls of the ER.
"Chandler?" Monica was jogging next to the gurney, and had a tight grip on Chandler's limp hand.
"Miss, you will need to wait here," the nurse said loudly, as the gurney turned the corner and boomed through a set of brown swinging doors.
"What's wrong with him? Is he going to be okay?" Monica asked shakily, as the nurse led her into the waiting area.
"The doctor will be with you shortly," the nurse replied vaguely, and disappeared down another corridor.
Monica turned to see the rest of her friends looking up at her expectantly. She shrugged slowly, and plopped onto a chair next to Joey.
"He'll be okay, Mon," Joey said quietly, and rubbed her arm reassuringly.
"I know…he has to be…there's too much to say…" Monica sighed, and laid her head on Joey's shoulder. "Joey…I…I didn't mean what I said earlier…I love him, so much."
"I know, Mon…so do I," Joey wrapped his arms around Monica securely.
Hours passed, and there was no word on Chandler's condition. Monica was certain that she was going to go out of her mind, if she didn't find something out. She pestered the staff constantly, and paced around the waiting area. In an attempt to calm her down, Ross suggested they talk about Holiday plans. Monica sat down for a moment, but shot back up when a doctor approached.
"I'm looking for the Bing party?" the doctor announced.
"That's us," Monica waved furiously, and watched intently as the doctor approached.
"My name is Dr. Thomason. Are you Mrs. Bing?"
"No…no, I'm Chandler's girlfriend, Monica."
"Monica, please have a seat. Chandler has what we call a duodenal ulcer. Basically, Chandler has a lesion, caused by bacteria, in his duodenum. Now normally, this condition can be treated with a series of antibiotics."
"But he can't do that?" Monica asked, her voice shaky.
"Eventually, yes. But Chandler was experiencing some hemorrhaging, which needed to be controlled. Has he been unusually tired and/or irritable lately?"
"He…he sleeps a lot," Monica said suddenly. How had she not noticed that before?
"The stomach acid has worked its way through the duodenal wall, and hit s blood vessel. We attempted to cauterize this endoscopically, but the tear was too large. We had to operate.
He came through the surgery fine, and he is recovering now. I will have the nurse take you up to recovery, and you'll be able to see him in an hour or so."
"Thank you, doctor," Monica smiled, and stood with the doctor.
"You're welcome, Monica," the doctor nodded, and left the waiting area.
Monica walked into the darkened room hesitantly, and closed the door behind her softly. As the door closed, it cut off the busy sounds of nurses and doctors walking back and forth, of the sound of children in the adjacent waiting room, and of phones ringing and call buttons sounding.
It also cut off most of the light in the room.
Monica stumbled into the room, and flipped on a small desk lamp that sat on a table next to Chandler's bed. With the outside sounds muffled, Monica listened to the hush-hush of the ventilator, and the steady rhythm of the heart monitor.
Chandler looked pale under the dim florescent bulb that glowed a ghoulish-green onto his face. The large medical bed made him look small, and child-like. Several tubes and wires protruded from his white and blue medical gown, two of them connected to clear, jellyfish-like bags that hung from the aluminum pole on the right side of the bed.
A brown vinyl chair was sitting in the corner of the room. Monica pulled the chair up to the bed, and sat down slowly, before taking Chandler's hand—careful not to disturb the tubes that were taped to the back of his hand.
"Chandler? Can you hear me? The, um, the nurses thought that you might be waking up soon. Um, anyway, you really scared us earlier. When you…when you passed out, and I couldn't wake you up…I had…" Monica stifled a sob, and took a shaky breath, "I had this awful vision…and I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd never be able to tell you how much…how much I need you. How I always have," tears slid down Monica's cheeks, as she ran the back of her other hand under her nose, and sniffled loudly. She gripped Chandler's hand, and let out a loud sob. "I'm so sorry—"
"Mon," Chandler's raspy voice caused Monica to look up sharply, and a wide grin melted across her face.
"Chandler," Monica's shoulders dropped with relief, and her eyes shone.
"Don't cry," Chandler whispered softly, and lifted his free hand to touch her face tenderly.
"Oh, God Chandler, you have no idea…no idea what the past few hours were like…"
"I can…I can see it in your eyes," Chandler smiled warmly, and placed his hand on the back of her head, when she dropped it gingerly onto his chest.
Chandler closed his eyes, his body no longer able to put up a fight to keep him awake. The other four had come and gone, but Monica had come back in after Rachel had left, and she now sat in the brown chair, losing her own battle with consciousness.
Chandler smiled, as he drifted into a wonderland of dreams. Dreams that were, for the first time in years, filled with the promise of a brilliant future.
AN: Oh, happy day, this one is just about done! Um, I had to look up a bunch of big doctor-words on the Internet…and I blatantly plagiarized a line from "The X-Files"…ten points if you can tell me what it is! ;-P