Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2012 16:40:04 -0700
From: Pete McDonald <bajabudfan@hotmail.com>
Subject: TIME TO SEE-8-

One cannot prevail against the errors and foolishness that someone creates
to confound himself. And the feeling one will experience, when having to
stand-by and witness another act unwisely, bringing about his own
self-destruction to ANY degree, out of his own ignorance, is excruciatingly
painful.

Thank God Hugo wasn't doing any of that.  A more conscientious and
self-effacing man I don't think I've ever met.  Surely he must be aware of
how he makes choices in his life, but he really is very
un-self-aggrandizing and seemingly unconscious of his goodness.  I should
only be so wise and able to act as well in my own interest. The man can't
speak on his own behalf or at all, of course, but he doesn't need words to
explain himself.

*****

Hugo left the room for a while but came back after 15 minutes or so.

"Where did you go?" I asked him on the pad.

"To tell Jake that I want to spend the night here with you again," Hugo
wrote.  "Jake said he didn't mind, but there will be a Saturday night nurse
who doesn't know about us.  He'll tell her when she comes on.  Jake said
she would be No Problem..."  With that, Hugo smiled, sat down, and began
taking off his shoes and socks.

I began writing again, "Get pillows from the other bed."

By this point he was undressed down to his boxers and his tee shirt,
leaving tufts of black body hair feathered out around the edges of his
shorts and his shirt.  He walked over to the other bed and picked up both
pillows and then came over to my bed, clicking off the overhead light
switch on his way.

I scooted over to one side of what was promising to be very tight sleeping
quarters. Hospital beds aren't made for two, I realized...  But I was
smiling ear to ear and had thrown back the covers for him.

The room went dark-- well, dark all except for those 5 or 6 maddening
little lights here and there-- and he climbed up onto the bed.  I opened my
arms, and Hugo snuggled up to me, belly to belly.

Shortly, however, we both realized that we wouldn't be able to remain in
that position very long; so I squirmed around in his arms, and became quite
comfortable spooning with him, my back to his belly, his head directly on
the pillow and mine somewhat on his shoulder.

He kissed me on the head, and I squeezed his thigh, not wishing to disturb
the agreeable positions we had both acquired. I was totally at peace; there
could not be a better place or time on this earth for the two of us than
the present moment.

And we fell asleep almost at once.

*****

Sunday Morning.

We had been lying there for a while when it occurred to me that neither
Jake nor that new nurse had looked in on us since last night.

Hugo was snoring now after going back to sleep when we finished 'fooling
around' earlier.  I was thinking 'shower' myself by now, but with Hugo
still asleep, I would not stir and disturb his rest.

I looked at his very large body, now inert and completely harmless.  I
wondered how I had ever used the word 'menacing' when I thought of him.
The shiny black hair on his head now grew in relaxed waves that fell over
his ears and down his neck covering his tattoo. I wondered briefly for the
umpteenth time, "Why does he have that cross tattooed on his neck?"

Eventually Hugo began to rouse and twist about in the bed.  He reached over
and pulled me to his chest and planted a big, noisy kiss right square on my
lips.  When we broke, we smiled and looked into each other's eyes as Hugo
mouthed the message: "I'M HUNGRY." He asked, "You?"

I reached over to get the pad and wrote, "OH... YEAH !  BIG TIME!"

With that, Hugo rolled out of bed giving me yet another delight when I
could see his beautiful, muscular buttocks highlighted with black body
hair.  And his very hairy groin displayed his penis which was still
somewhat turgid, even after his rest.

I had taken that silly hospital gown off last night and not yet felt any
real need for the hint of modesty it provided me.  I decided I'd get a
shower first and only then think about putting it back on.

Hugo was dressed and heading out into the hall, no doubt going to the
hospital kitchen to get breakfast for us.  I headed for the shower, and in
short order, when I was in heaven under the rushing water, I heard banging
and clanging that had to be Hugo returning with the food.  In a few minutes
he came into the bathroom completely naked and stepped into the shower with
me.  He moved into the warm gushing waterfall and in a jiffy looked like a
black Labrador retriever just fallen into the lake, jet black hair hanging
in thick inviting waves from his head and all over his handsome male body.

I kissed him, washed his back, and ran my soapy hand into his ass crack,
massaging the hair and tight anus in there; and I moved on to his compact
yet substantial scrotum and penis.

He was washing vigorously apparently not interested in anything more
amorous than his morning shower.  Everything covered in lots of foamy soap,
he began to expose himself directly to the flowing water and in short order
was ready to step out of the shower.

He leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek and put his foot out onto
the bathmat.

I turned off the tap and followed him. Together we dried with soft white
towels and checked to see whether the coast was clear; so we could get on
to breakfast out in the room.

A few minutes into our eating, Hugo got up to find the pad and returned
writing a message, "I'm going to visit Jilder this morning."

"Great," I wrote in reply. "I can hardly wait until I can go with you."

"Will doctor come to see you today?" Hugo asked me.

"Yeah. But it could be this afternoon.  I'm sure they aren't going to rush
on a Sunday," I wrote back.

I kept the pad: "Oh, and Hugo, would you 'pretty please' (underlined) stop
and get those medical papers that the doctor gave you?"

God I was becoming an insufferable nag, and we hadn't even achieved any
kind of official relationship/connection/one-night-stand status with one
another yet.

"Maaaybe... :-)" he wrote just to tease me.

I pouted. Upon seeing me, he leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek.

He always ate with the speed and efficiency of a Hoover vacuum, a feat I
never tried to match... that would just be impossible for me. But he was
finished with his breakfast and rising from his chair already.

He grabbed his baggy, green, fatigue jacket and put it on over his mint
green scrubs.  He took the pad and wrote, "I gotta go.  Be back later--
maybe late???"

I quickly followed his message with one of my own, "I'll be right here.
Please come whenever you want. I feel so good when you are here with me--
you help me to get well faster!  Love, The Turkey.."

He smiled and hurried out the door.  I suddenly felt very alone when he had
gone.

I looked through a 3 month old copy of Parent magazine whose one salutary
quality was that it made me drowsy.

*****

The next thing I knew, Jake was opening the door to my room, making it
squeek and then bumping as it closed.  He came in glowing in his usual
cheery mood. "Well, good late-morning, lover boy," he said with a sly
smile...

"Okay, okay... no teasing the patients. We're an endangered
species... besides; we pay the bills around here..." I shot back.

"Just trying to do my job and find out how the patient is doing today. Mind
if we do the BP cuff thing?"

"Well, if you're nice and don't squeeze me too hard, you're on... If you're
planning to squeeze real hard, you can put that thing around you-know-what
for a little special therapy," I chided.

"Oh, a little feisty are we-- or is that horny?" Jake said smiling.

Then he became serious and quiet as he inflated the cuff on me. It hissed
slowly and gave way to a little beep, beep, beep, and after a moment or two
of that, it beeped one long time and hissed away to nothing.  "Oh My God!"
Jake said... "You are so healthy it's disgusting... Just what are you going
to tell the doctors today to keep your reservation active in this 5-star
hotel?"

"Really?" I exclaimed. "That's great.  And I do really feel much better,
but I still have to grab something to steady myself occasionally when I
walk to the bathroom, and I can't get my eyes to rotate down low enough in
my eye sockets to see below my chin when I shave." I told Jake, a little
bit concerned.

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much. You'll have things that correct
themselves quickly and things that hang on for weeks or longer.  But the
fact that you have pulled out of the critical phase and are making
improvement daily is what you can be pleased about."

"Thanks for the encouragement," I said.

"No problem," he replied. "We try to be nice to the paying customers."

"Speaking of 'paying customers,' can I ask you something about Hugo.

"Sure, we're not close friends -- and in fact I don't know any of his
'close friends' but I can sure tell you what I know about him," Jake said
as he rolled up his BP cuff.

"Do you know who examined him for his deafness? Was the exam a routine
office visit kind of examination, or was there more to it? Do you know?" I
asked.

"Uh? Humm? Let me see. What was that about...? Dr. Aarons brought in some
researchers from Ireland, if I'm not mistaken, to do Hugo's examination.
The researchers had been working on stem cell lines that have demonstrated
the ability to grow nerve cell axons when placed in a tubular guide around
a damaged spinal cord, in the presence of special nerve stimulating
enzymes. I think this was in a laboratory rat model."

I didn't know enough even to ask an intelligent question; so I just sat
quietly while Jake explained more.

"The stem cells propagate along a matrix inside of the tubular guide and
then reconnect with the subject's central nervous system."

And continuing, Jake said: "The matrix and tube are made of a material that
dissolves and is absorbed by the body. To date, I think, the reconnection
with the CNS (That's Central Nervous System) after growth has been the main
obstacle to success with their work."

"Uh Oh," I said... "Then you mean there is a pretty good chance their
technique will fail?"

Jake didn't answer me directly right away, he just went on: "It's very
complex, I realize, but they're committed to their theory and again, if I'm
not mistaken, I think they're working with a Kansas City team of
researchers who are doing similar things but with stem cells found directly
in the cochlear structure of the inner ear."

Jake seemed to be familiar with all manner of details. He said: "They're
hoping that these cochlear derived cells will prove more compatible with
the auditory nerve and the hair cells that grow around the auditory nerve."

"The thing is," Jake said, "Hugo does NOT have severe mutilation of the
cochlear structures, but, somehow, as a kid, a loud noise or stress to his
ears-- probably an illness-- "blew a hole," if you will, in the auditory
nerve.  They thought that the amount of regeneration needed for success in
Hugo's case would be minimal, something that's important to their research.
They don't want to deal with complications.  They want a case where
properly stimulated and matrix guided nerve regeneration has a chance to
produce a complete reconnection of the hearing system and total recovery of
hearing, accompanying the stem-cell generated patch.  And, well, Hugo
represents such a case."

I had no basis for commenting, only for marveling at the possibilities of
this concept.

"How does anyone ever have the tenacity to pursue such laborious and
meticulous manipulations of the body?" I said.  "I just wonder: how does
one unravel the complexity of such miraculous systems as how the body hears
or how it sees or how it does ANYTHING, for that matter?" I spoke as I
shook my head and looked down at the bed feeling the most profound humility
at my survival and at my ignorance and smallness.

"Yeah! Sure makes you appreciate every moment of your life," Jake agreed.
I sighed, and we shared the silence together.

Jake looked over at the clock on the bedside table and said, "I think
Aarons is making rounds this weekend. He usually takes his time and doesn't
finish until late.  Hope you aren't planning anything that requires knowing
just when he'll show," Jake said.

"Oh, no, of course not," I answered.

I went on, "The only thing on my agenda is Hugo coming back sometime this
evening-- or maybe sometime tonight."

"You mind if I give a few unsolicited words?" Jake said looking me square
in the eye in all seriousness.

"Of course not," I said.

"I've never seen Hugo so motivated as he has been since you showed up in
this hospital.  He has been up to your room countless times every day.  He
comes by on his way to everywhere he goes in his routine. And he seems
happy for the first time since I've known him.?

I smiled shyly and let him continue: "I don't know what you may feel, or
how much this... uh?... "Friendship" might mean to you, but I hope you'll
understand that Hugo has become totally committed to you, and I'm worried
at how, if you aren't interested in this person who just dropped into your
life out of nowhere, it might be a real blow for him to take... In a word.
I think the man loves you! -- ONLY My opinion!" Jake added defensively.

"And I love him too," I said quickly, hardly allowing the sound of Jake's
voice to fade away.

"Oh!" Jake said, as a big exhale and smile of relief replaced his serious
mood.

"Well, that makes me feel MUCH better.  I'd hate to see his life be any
more difficult than it has been already- which has been major difficult,"
Jake said.

"Oh, gosh, I've GOT to get on to the other patients.  Dr. Aarons expects to
find vitals in the charts of all patients on this floor when he visits.
And it's MY ASS that he'll chew out if they aren't there...  I'm off, sorry
to rush off, bye..." and Jake patted my leg through the bed sheet as he
hurried out the door.

"Well, Hugo is as transparent to Jake as he is to me.  And there just isn't
a shadow of guile in his being. I'm so fucking lucky," I thought.

*****

It wasn't long after Hugo rushed out that Dr. Aarons pushed open the door
to my room.

"Hello, Mr. Kramer. And how're you feelin today?" he said before he had
actually finished walking up to my bed.

"Oh, really very good," I was happy to be able to tell him.

"Hum?" he said as he read through my chart.

"You certainly have excellent vital signs. That's wonderful. And the notes
here say that you still require assistance when you walk, and you notice a
restriction in the up-down mobility of your eyes.  That pretty much it?" He
asked.

"Yeah.  I get around ok, but every now and then I'm overcome with a dizzy
feeling, and I have to grab whatever's near to keep from stumbling," I
said.

"That will probably resolve. At least that's what your rapidly improving
trend would indicate.  I think it's a little early to be worried about
residual disorder," Dr. Aarons advised.

"Yeah.  Well, that sounds good.  And then there's the eye thing.  I can't
see my throat when I'm shaving.  I have to move my whole head, because my
eyes move only so far..." I said, looking at him somewhat apprehensive once
again...

"Same thing, Kevin..." He didn't even elaborate.

"Let's wait a couple more days.  If you're still improving by Wednesday, I
think we'll recommend you leave the hospital and take it easy at home for a
while."

"I've been thinking about that," I said.

"Do you think taking off until January would be foolish, " I asked.

"Not if you're fortunate enough to have the security to do that. You'll
need to increase your activity level gradually, and you'll need to avoid
stress--both the emotional kind and the physical kind," the doctor said.

"No. I can swing it.  And it will have some secondary benefit too." I said.

"Really?" Dr. Aarons said.  "And what might that be?"

"Uh... Uh... I don't know how to share this next bit of personal
information, but... uh... I've developed a very recent and serious interest
in one of the hospital staff who has concerns that I'd be most interested
in following closely... uh... you might say that my serious interest is
... uh... actually affection," I stammered looking down as I shared my mind
with Dr. Aarons.

"Might I speculate that the orderly, Hugo, is the staff member of
interest?" Dr. Aarons stated quite comfortably and with a measure of
kindness.

"Uh... yeah...," I replied, with my eyes still cast down, but due to no
fault of my eye muscles or brain.  I just felt ashamed...

"Uh huh.  I would have guessed it to be Hugo. He has certainly made no
attempt to conceal his total preoccupation with everything going on in your
life... He's a fine and humble man who manages his very significant
disability quite responsibly and without bitterness or anger. He's an
example for us all, to be industrious in our own interest & content with
life's musical score for us.. It's like his personal symphony lacks for
nothing, even though he cannot hear a single sound..."

"Yes." I agreed and found a wave of pride surge through me, raising my eyes
right up to Dr. Aarons'.

"Do you recall the research interest in Hugo's deafness?" I asked.

"Of course," he replied.

"Do you think there is any reason to pursue it?  I mean is there any merit
to exerting the significant effort to get financing and to endure the
physical ordeal it would mean for Hugo?  Do you think there is any chance
that he might be able to hear after completion of their procedures?" I
asked with the expectation of receiving sound scientific data, not some
blend of optimistic, bed-side manner and wishful thinking. I wanted only
the facts: up-side, down-side...

Dr. Aarons looked at me without conveying any degree of superiority
deriving from his being a physician.  He understood my practical and
personal concerns, and he didn't toy with me.

"This is totally experimental.  The theory is sound, and the laboratory
animal models have been positive.  They have restored hearing in these
animals in their laboratory, but we have no assurances that the mechanisms
at work in the animal models would be present in humans.  It seems to be an
incredibly good possibility, but Hugo was simply too scared to try.  After
all, his good fortune in life hasn't been sufficiently extensive for him to
consider that perhaps he really does have a chance here... That is, not
until he's found your support available to him... Perhaps you will find
that-- with you-- he has a different receptivity to the idea than with us.
Hugo is too valuable to con or manipulate.  He is a valuable, caring person
who deserves the most honest treatment himself."

"Thank you for your honesty, Dr. Aarons," I said.

"Not at all, Kevin; you are both of great value to us. I'm happy to welcome
you to our world of medical care.... or should I say, 'Medical love.'"

"I'm not sure the nurse would approve of your choice of words, but I hear
them and appreciate them," I said.

"Well, the nurse and I have had different experiences, I suppose,"
Dr. Aarons said. "Personally I think that Hugo's message on your wall had
something to do with your coming back to us... Um? because we didn't know
what the fuck was going on with you (pardon my French)" Dr. Aarons shared
candidly.

"It did indeed," I told him, looking him directly in the eye.

"I thought so," he said with a smile...

He patted me on the shoulder and said, "I've got to be moving along, but
it's good to find you doing quite well.  We'll continue our discussion of
just when you could consider leaving the hospital next week."

And with that, Dr. Aarons turned to go.

Well, this turned out to be a very rewarding day for me, even though Hugo
had not been here.  I looked at the clock and wondered just how late Hugo
would be... NOW, I was beginning to look forward to his return... I really
do love that man, and quite clearly he has ingratiated himself to more than
one person in his life... Sometimes, some people (Maybe like me?) can be so
lost, and then a person like Hugo comes along... What is going on that
keeps Hugo on track?

I wonder?

*****