People had good days, and they had bad days. If a person were lucky, the good days would outweigh the bad days. Of course, there was no guarantee in life that said they would.
Over all, he felt his good days had been more numerous than his bad days. Of course, he partially felt responsible for that. He worked hard to make sure he had a good life and good relationships with his friends and family.
Yesterday was a perfect example of how capricious fate could be. Lady Luck had taken great pleasure in keeping him on his toes. The day had started well, turned bad, become great, and then gone so deeply south that there was just no way to recover from it.
Today, however, was another story. It could still turn into a good day. After all, it was only a little after 1:00 am. There was still almost 23 hours left in the day. Surely that was enough time to turn things around.
Of course, that could only happen if Dillon woke up. If he did, the day would become one of the best of Seth's life. If he didn't, Seth wasn't sure what he would do.
He sat in the waiting room down the hall from the room where Dillon lay quiescently hooked up to machines and IVs. The chair he was using was actually more comfortable than he had expected. Maybe someone had finally wised up to the fact that people in hospital waiting rooms were going to be there quite a while and therefore deserved comfortable seating. Or, it could have just been an administrative mix-up with someone ordering the wrong furniture.
To his right, Eric was tilted back in his own chair, sleeping. Faint snores emanated from his open mouth every couple of minutes, but otherwise he was quiet. Sprite was curled up on the one couch in the waiting room, using her purse as a pillow. In a moment of random thought, Seth realized that he was impressed she had it with her. She was constantly forgetting it places. It wasn't that she was forgetful, but rather that she was so enthusiastic to keep going, she never checked to make sure she left nothing behind.
Jeremy was the only other person of their little group that was still awake. He was pretending to read an old copy of the Wall Street Journal. Seth knew he wasn't really seeing the words on the page because he hadn't turned a page in over an hour. Still, it seemed to help Jeremy, so Seth couldn't blame him for maintaining the illusion.
None of them had been allowed to see Dillon. Maybe that was the hardest part. It was bad enough knowing that he was lying in there, oblivious to the world around him, unable to reach out for help. Not being able to see him was even worse. But the head nurse of the floor was adamant about following the rules. If you weren't a blood relative, you had no rights.
She couldn't kick them out, however. They were friends of a patient and could spend as much time as they wanted in the waiting room. As long as they didn't try to actually see Dillon, they were doing nothing wrong.
If Dillon woke up and asked to see them, then they'd be allow to go to his room during visiting hours. But not until he did so could they even get close enough to spot a glimpse of his face.
Once again Seth went back to praying that Dillon would wake up. They had just found each other, and here they were, separated again. Would the universe never be kind to them?
Glancing up, he saw that it was now 3:30 am. Time was slowly flowing by. He didn't know if he should be grateful or upset. The longer Dillon failed to wake up, the less likely that he would. On the other hand, once a new shift of nurses was on duty, maybe he would be able to find someone sympathetic enough to allow him into Dillon's room.
If only Dillon had family to call upon. They could give permission for him to see Dillon. But Seth knew very little about Dillonâs family other than the fact that they had kicked him out as soon as it was legal to do so.
Of course, thatâs only his parents, Seth thought to himself. Other family could do something.
âJeremy,â Seth spoke softly, not wanting to wake either Sprite or Eric. Once he had Jeremyâs attention, he continued. âIs there anyone we should call? I know Dillon doesnât get along with his parents, but what about any aunts, uncles, or cousins?â
Jeremy sighed. âI honestly donât think so. Iâve never heard him mention anyone, but then he wonât talk much about his past. He might have other relatives, I guess. Either way, they havenât seemed interested in him if they are out there.â
Seth cursed. âHe shouldnât be alone. Not in his life and especially not now. Someone who loves him should be in there with him.â
Moving to squat down in front of Seth, Jeremy took his hand. âHeâs not alone, you know. He has you and me. We love him and he knows it.â
* * *
The first thing he realized was that he was thirsty. His lips werenât dry and cracked, so it hadnât been an inordinately long time since he drank anything, but his mouth felt arid.
The second thing that hit him was a sense of déjà vu. The sound of a beeping monitor reminded him that he had enacted this scene before. He knew exactly where he was, even though he could see nothing. The sounds of a hospital full of patients being woken up for the day mingled with the cloying smell of sickness that never went away, no matter how much antiseptic was poured upon it.
He wasnât sure why he was in the hospital this time. He didnât remember anything that would have led to a hospital stay, but then, he didnât remember the car accident that had changed his life, either.
What was the last thing he remembered? He scanned his memory, smiling as the interlude with Seth came to mind. Yes, he definitely recalled that.
Afterward they had gone to sleep. He had slept well, sated and secure. But then, heâd awoken for some reason. Seth was just leaving. Where had he gone? Dillon couldnât remember.
âSeth?â Dillon called out tentatively. He couldnât imagine that Seth wouldnât be nearby, but he wasnât sure if he would disturb another patient. âSeth,â he called out a bit louder.
There was no reply. Dillon tried to sit up, wanting to get out of bed. The IV in his hand and the wires leading to his chest and nose all pulled him back down.
He waited for a nurse to notice he was awake or for a machine to signal a change and send someone to check on him. Nothing. No one appeared to take his blood pressure or shoot anything into his IV. He heard people walking past in the corridor outside his room, their soft-soled shoes squeaking against the floor. He tried to call out to them, but his mouth was still so dry that he couldnât manage much in the way of volume.
Dillon decided to get someoneâs attention. He wanted up out of this bed and he wanted his boyfriend NOW and he wasnât willing to wait any longer. He reached up and ripped off one of the electrodes pasted over his heart, hissing at the pain of the glue taking off some of his skin and hair.
Immediately an alarm started going off from a machine to his right. It was loud and insistent. Footsteps out in the corridor hurried toward his direction and there were voices calling to each other.
Pulling another wire away from his chest, Dillon struggled to sit up even as he heard people rushing into his room. The IV in his hand sent a twinge of pain up his arm, but he ignored it.
A cart being rolled down the hall made a loud sound. A liquid voice called out, âForget the crash cart! Heâs awake and making it known!â
âWhat is going on?â Dillon demanded, pulling a third wire away. âWhy am I in the hospital and hooked up to every machine in the damn building like some science experiment?â
âFirst, letâs just calm down,â the woman said in a soothing voice.
Dillon swallowed, attempting to wet his mouth before speaking again. âYou can calm down,â Dillon replied. âI want to know whatâs going on and why Seth isnât here.â
âIs Seth a relative that we can call?â the woman asked, still trying to soothe Dillon. She was lightly stroking her fingertips over his right arm.
âNo, heâs not a relative, heâs my boyfriend,â Dillon didnât hesitate to reveal. He only had one thought, and that was to see the man he loved, no matter who he had to yell at to make it happen.
âOh, well that explains why heâs not here,â she responded. âOnly relatives are allowed to see a patient when he or she is unconscious.â
âWhat kind of stupid rule is that?â Dillon demanded. He knew he was being short-tempered and rude, but he still didnât know why he was here or where Seth was. Seth was all he had to cling to at the moment, and clinging was what he was doing.
âIâm sorry, itâs just the rule of most hospitals. Would your Seth be nearby?â
âIs there a waiting room anywhere around here?â Dillon asked. âHeâll be there.â
âWell, then, Iâll go ahead and examine you, ask you a few questions, and then Iâll send someone to the waiting room. If Seth is there, weâll have him brought in.â
* * *
Seth was fighting exhaustion with everything in him. His eyes badly wanted to shut and his head to drop back onto the chair behind him.
He knew part of it was physical exhaustion, but the larger component was emotional exhaustion. He and Dillon had been through so many ups and downs during the time they had known each other. It was like riding a roller coaster. It could be exhilarating at first, but after too long a run, you just wanted off.
That wasnât to say he wanted out of his relationship with Dillon. Far from it. He just realized he wanted a more normal, everyday sort of life. The kind where they did little things for each other, fought over who was going to fold the laundry, and fell asleep in each otherâs arms every night.
To his surprise, he wanted a husband. And not just any husband. He wanted Dillon for his husband. For them to commit to each other, to declare before everyone that they would be together for the rest of their lives.
Heâd found a sympathetic nurse who had revealed that Dillonâs vital signs were improving, but he still hadnât been allowed to see him. Each moment gone by, not knowing what was going on and not being able to see it for himself, was sheer tortured.
âIs there a Seth Evans here?â Sethâs head jerked up at the sound of his name.
âIâm Seth Evans,â he replied, pushing himself quickly from his chair, and then sitting back down just as quickly as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He was still a bit weak from his own hospital stay and thirty-six hours without sleep and no real food was taking its toll.
The nurse who had called his name moved forward. She was a tall black woman with exotic features. Her body was lean and she moved with a grace that you saw in few people.