"Okay..." said Lorelai shakily.
She and Sookie both turned their heads then when the privacy curtain was pushed aside to admit Dr. Steiner.
"Lorelai, I see that you're here a little sooner than we planned," she said as she flipped through the chart at the foot of the bed.
"Hmm," reflected Lorelai, "Normally I would have something very witty and terribly droll to reply to that with, but frankly I feel too crappy to care right now. Can I get back to you, doctor?"
"I'll look forward to it," smiled the doctor as she aimed her stethoscope at Lorelai's chest.
"Still working?" asked Lorelai when Dr. Steiner finished and returned to the chart.
"So far," she nodded, "Okay, I'm sending you in for an MRI first."
"What's that?"
"A picture of your brain."
"Oh man, they're going to slide me into one of those giant Easy Bake ovens, aren't they?" lamented Lorelai.
"Claustrophobic?" smiled the doctor.
"No!" she scoffed.
"So you'll be wanting a Valium for this then?"
"Yes, please!" she said gratefully.
"All right, then. We'll do that as soon as I can get you upstairs. Then I'll take a look at your film and come back later to talk to you. Ho does that sound?"
"Like I'm going to have to eat jell-O products before this day is over."
"I'd say that's a sure-money bet," smiled the doctor again on her way out.
She and Sookie were quiet a long minute then. Lorelai thought maybe one grouping of the ceiling perforations looked a bit like a three-legged cow, but then again, maybe not.
"Does he give any reason for not coming in?" she finally asked softly.
"Not yet," said Sookie sadly. They pondered that in silence together a moment, before Sookie interrupted them, "Okay, I better go out there and update everybody now."
"Jeez, who all's out there?"
"Luke, Jackson, Michel, Kirk, Lulu and Babette so far."
"Oh man..." sighed Lorelai.
"They're just worried about you, honey."
"I know," Lorelai nodded (bad idea–dizzy again now) "Go on out there and tell them there will be absolute proof that I do have a brain by day's end, and then I want you to send all of them home. After that I want you and Jackson to go home too and retrieve your son from Tobin. I won't be getting out of here anytime soon."
"But..."
"Go on, Sookie. I'll call you in the morning."
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Later that night she pushed her compartmentalized tray of colorful mushy stuff aside in disgust and pouted. She glanced at the empty perfectly made bed next to her own and sighed. Then she picked up the remote and flipped through three basketball games, one home shopping show (polyester pants-- ugh!) and a documentary about bees. She settled grumpily on the last, figuring she could at least impress Rory sometime.
"Knock, knock, Sugar, "she heard at the nearly shut door.
"Babette? Come in! Come in! I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life!" she smiled at her kind neighbor.
"I was afraid you might be sleepin'" Babette said and looked around the room, "Hey, nice--- you got a TV. No roommate though, huh?"
"No. So how's the world out there?" asked Lorelai.
"It's the same, still spinnin'" laughed Babette as she sat in a chair next to her, "So how are you doing, doll, for real? Is it something serious?" she asked in concern.
"Well, the MRI was clear which is good. Tomorrow they'll do a bunch of other torturous stuff to me, so hopefully we'll know something then."
Babette nodded and swiped at a tear.
"Oh hey, Babette," soothed Lorelai gently, "It's going to be all right."
"I just hate seeing a young kid like you in this situation," she sniffed. "Oh don't pay no attention to me," she waved herself off, "Listen, I got the key out of the pig's snout and brought you some stuff from home," she said and handed Lorelai a paper bag.
Lorelai peered into it and smiled, "Oh this is great, Babette, thank you."
"Oh sure, honey, I know how it is. A lady likes to have her own underwear nearby at all times. Not to mention other certain unmentionables."
"Amen, sister-friend!" crowed Lorelai happily, "Ooo! And you brought me nice fresh new magazines, too! Babette, you are my hero!"
"Don't mention it, honey. Glad I could do it. I can see that Luke isn't going to leave this hospital any time soon to do it for you."
"What?"
"Yeah, he's still down there in that waiting room, sitting like the rock a'Gibralter or somethin'. Same as he was seven hours ago," she added conversationally. "Man that guy's got it bad for you. What none of us can understand is why he won't get off his ass and come up here to see you, though. Everyone's been bothering him about it, too: 'Get your ass up there and see Lorelai, she needs you, we all tell him.'"
"And what does he say?" asked Lorelai.
"Oh you know Luke: 'Leave me the hell alone'; 'None of your damn business'; 'Buzz off'; or, 'Kirk, I swear to God I will slug you in the face if you speak to me again'. Depends on who's bothering him at the time."
"Right," nodded Lorelai.
"If you ask me, I think he's scared," said Babette finally.
Lorelai paused a moment, fingering the handles of the paper bag.
"I'll tell you a secret, Babette," she said blinking now.
"What is it, Sugar?"
"I'm scared too."
"Oh honey, come here," and Babette hiked her short self up onto the high hospital bed and gathered Lorelai up in her arms. "There, there, you have a good cry, Sweetie. You'll feel better, I promise. My mother used to say that tears were God's medicine. Isn't that nice?"
Lorelai sobbed and smiled and nodded all at the same time.
And later, after Babette had gone, and she had magazine slutted herself into fretful boredom (looking at pictures only, not bothering with articles,) she clicked off the Daily Show (re-run anyway,) and finally picked up the damn phone and dialed. She chewed her thumb as she waited for an answer.
"Rory? Hi honey, I couldn't remember what time it was there. I didn't wake you did I?
---Oh good. Did your Grandpa get in okay?
—Good, good.
—I miss you too... Listen honey, I need to talk to you about something....
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Something like a big bug was bothering her. Jeez, she swatted. Leave me alone, she sent psychic vibrations, and then "Ouch," out loud.
"Sorry, honey," she heard.
She squeezed her eyes open, "Who are you?" she asked the stranger peering down at her.
"I'm Tanika," smiled the nurse, "But most people call me The Vampire Lady because I do the four a.m blood draws."
"Jeez, who did you piss off to get that job?" asked Lorelai.
Tanika laughed, "Oh honey, never ask a Black woman that."
"Right," nodded Lorelai,
"Sorry I woke you."
"No big deal. Hey, Tanika, would it be all right if I got up and stretched my legs a little? I promise to be good and wear my robe."
"Sure, let me just unhook your IV. You have to promise to be back in twenty minutes though. I'll be finished with rounds then and can re-hook you up."
"I promise," said Lorelai, "And I promise not to tell Buffy about you either," she joked lamely. "Heard that one once or twice before, huh?" she added when she saw Tanika's impassive reaction.
"Ummhmm."
"Wow. Tough crowd after midnight."
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She approached the waiting room quietly and peeked around the corner when she got there.
All was pretty still at four a.m., but there he was—sound asleep sitting up in one of those miserable plastic chairs, arms crossed, chin on his chest.
Even from the other side of the room, she could see the dark circles under his eyes. The empty tea cups strewn across the table before him told their own story about the compulsively cleaning Diner Man she knew.
She sighed then, unbearably sad, and turned to go back to her room.
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The next morning started with an electro-cardiogram (no big deal.)
More drilling for various fluids then (slightly painful, a little embarrassing and messy.)
A muscle reflex test in which needles attached to wires inserted in various muscles and then zapped at twitching frequency (totally medieval, though she remained proudly stoic through out)
And culminating with the dramatic Tilt Table Test (...designed originally for astronauts, she learned, in order to simulate the effects of a no- gravity environment on the body, during which one is strapped flat to a table, given more than slightly sinister drugs and are then tilted at various degrees–head up, she was relieved to find out–incrementally, until the magic 70 degree angle is hit, thereby causing the most stress on the heart possible. Her's subsequently stopped cold within seconds of hitting that angle. The medical team pounded it back into starting again and if Lorelai had been conscious for this, well alive actually, she would have appreciated the televisional aspect of the drama in which she got to play the femme fatale—hee, femme fatale.)
The neuro-cardiologist actually seemed very happy with the unusual occurrence of a heart stoppage in his lab.
"Most people just faint or throw up," he told her with a broad grin when she was aware again, "You're a star performer."
"Great," she mumbled. "Wait a minute—am I supposed to say 'Good for me! My heart stopped?'" asked Lorelai wide-eyed at this information.
"Well, it's a pretty rare result, so I'm excited," he told her and left the nurse to remove her IV so he could hurry off to share his exciting findings with his colleagues.
"Research hospitals," scoffed the nurse, "he's probably writing an article for the journals about you right now."
"Fame at last," said Lorelai drily.
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"Hey Keith," she said to the nurse when they wheeled her back into her room.
"Hey Lorelai, how'd it go?" he asked as he helped her back onto the bed.
"Meh...my heart stopped," she said nonchalantly.
"Wow, good show," noted Keith, "Did you see in any white lights?"
"No, damn it," she frowned, "So do you think the drama of this is going to hit me later?"
"Yeah, I totally predict a delayed reaction all right," he nodded, "But meanwhile, guess what?" he smiled.
"No, it isn't!" she howled.
"Yes, it is!" he assured her.
"Chocolate pudding night! Hooray! Worth coming back to life for, every time!"
"I'll try to get you seconds," he winked.
"I love you, Keith!" she hollered after him down the hall.
"Lorelai Gilmore! What are you yelling? And to whom are you yelling it?"
"Jeez, Mom, don't scare a lady with a heart condition like that!" she said as her Mother, Father and Rory burst into the room.
"Rory!" she yelled in delight at her daughter.
"Mom!" yelled Rory as she jumped on the bed to share a hug.
"Heart condition? What does she mean, heart condition? Richard, what does she mean by that?" demanded Emily.
"Mom, what is going on? Tell us now," Rory added her concern more gently.
"You guys didn't have to fly back," Lorelai told them all.
"Well, of course we flew back, you're in the hospital," snapped Emily.
"Right. Silly me," she nodded. "Dad, I'm sorry about the suit of armor," she looked up at her father.
"Don't worry about it, Lorelai."
"Lorelai! Richard! When is someone going to give me some real information around here?" Emily was beyond frustration now.
"I believe I am the one for that job..." interrupted Dr. Steiner as she entered the room.