by Comet "Haaahhhhh...... CHOO!!!" I awoke to a big sneeze. I sat up in bed, rubbed my eyes sleepily, and looked to where I had heard the explosion. Ryan was standing half dressed in our closet, blowing his nose in a tissue. A normal sound to wake up to. A good 11 months out of the year were spent listening to Ryan's sneezes, whether from his allergies to a thousand and one things, or colds, which he seemed prone to catch. "Bless you. What are you doing up honey?" I asked sleepily. He didn't respond. "Honey?" He wasn't looking at me, so he couldn't read my lips, I reminded myself. Ryan is mostly deaf. He a dangerously high fever our sophomore year in High School, and he lost all but the slightest bit of hearing. He's just glad he's still alive. If he wears this hearing aid, he can hear some, but it doesn't help much, in addition to be "extremely uncomftorable, almost unbearable" quoting Ryan. The kind of hearing aid he really needs is much too expensive for us to even think about buying. But Ryan still had all of his voice and had no trouble talking, which doctor's say is a miracle. So he isn't that different from everyone else, only you have to get his attention and look right at him for him to understand you. If he doesn't feel like talking, we sign. We both already knew how, him being required to (with being deaf and all, it was a must) and I had a grandmother who was hard of hearing, so we were still able to talk before he learned to lip-read. He sneezed again, and I tossed a pillow at him to get his attention. He then looked at me, and I repeated my question. "What am I doing up?" He chuckled, throwing the pillow back at me. "In case you hadn't noticed, its almost nine." My eyes bulged out of my head when I saw the clock. "Shoot!" I yelled. I jumped up from my warm covers and began dressing myself as quickly as I could. I stubbed my toe on the closet door in my frantic rage. "Why didn't you-- I practically ripped my night gown trying to get it off. "Wake me? It would be nice if--" On comes a sweater and a nice pair of jeans. "You could tell me when I need to be at the hospital and--" I grabbed a pair of socks and a pair of shoes. "I should have been way up by--" Socks; on. "Now." I signed with fury. Ryan burst out laughing. "Oh honey, you just looked so angelic, I didn't have the heart to wake you." I scowled at him, and yanked a comb through my chin- length blond mess of hair, which didn't take too much effort. It was so straight I couldn't even braid it. "Besides, sweet heart, it's your day off. You're supposed to pack today for our trip to Italy today." He laughed some more. "Moron!" I screamed jokingly and I ran over to where Ryan was doubled over in laughter and gave him a playful punch. "That was not very nice getting me all worried like that." I said grinning. Ryan straightened up and grinned. "Sorry. I just couldnt heh... heh.. HahSHOO!!" Ryan took another Kleenex and blew his nose. "Are you catching a cold Ry?" I asked concerned. He shook his head. "I don't know...." I said skeptically. "Youve been sneezing since yesterday afternoon when we got home from the hospital." "Don't worry about it. I'm pretty sure I'm not sick. There's just a bit of dust in the.....the...HaSHH! HahSHH! hahSHHH!!! Air." Ryan sniffled and took a golf shirt out of his closet and pulled it over his head, which ruffled his pale blond hair. I smiled and handed him another Kleenex. "Well, in 24 hours, we are going to be on beautiful, dust free, Italian beaches." I signed. Ryan smiled and blew his nose again. It was starting to get red from all the sneezing and blowing. "Actually, in 24 hours, we will most likely still be on a plane." He looked at his watch. "I gotta go honey. I'll meet you at the airport later." He grabbed another tissue and coughed into it. "Bye now sweetie." He leaned over and kissed my cheek before hurrying out the door. ***************************************************************** ****** I had just about closed the last suitcase, using all my 125 pounds and 5'7 inched body frame trying to get it shut. I just needed so much stuff!! All of our other suitcases were packed in the car except for these last few. Fortunately, packing for Ryan was much easier. He could use one outfit for going out to eat and shopping. He needed far few swimsuits. And far few accessories. And far few--well, to save space, lets just put it at everything. All I had to do was hook up this one last latch, and then I could--"AHHHHHH!!!!" I hollered. I spotted my bag of under garments still sitting on the bed! They HAD to go in my suitcase. There was no way I could leave them at home, or carry them in my hand. I struggled for a few minutes, and I finally reached a point, while sitting on my suitcase where I could carefully slide the bag into a little crack I had managed to create in the suitcase, then quickly shut the latch before it burst open. I was very slowly and carefully slipping my bag in the suitcase when--BBBRRRINNNGGGG!!!! The noise startled me, and I toppled off the suitcase. I screamed in frustration as the suitcase popped open sending things flying. Stupid phone. I hurried to get it but I was too late. The answering machine had picked it up. "Hello. You have reached Ryan and Christina Blake. Were not able to come to the phone right now, so if you could please leave your name and number at the beep, well get back to you as soon as we can.. BEEEEEEEEEEEP." "Hi, Chris? I hobe you hab't left yet. *sniff* This id Ryad. I thick, thad I bight be, possibly, baybe, perhaps, sorta-kida cubig dowd with subthig so if you ged this bessage, could you please pick up a box of tissues for be ad a box of code bedicid?" A very stuffy voice asked. I picked up the phone. "Ryan? I asked in shock. "Oh hi Chris. Ib glad you hab't left yet." "You sound terrible!" I exclaimed, pulling slightly away from the phone as I turned to look back at the weather channel, to check the weather in Italy. Silence. "Repeat thad. Id did't cub through." "I said," I repeated, enunciating my words so that they would come through clear for Ryan. He has a little machine that he plugs into the phone and it types what the person on the other end is saying. It's rather helpful. "You sound terrible!" "I dod't doe how I sowd, but believe it or dot, Im fide. Id's just thad I dod't hab a tissue, so I cad't blow by dose. If you cad just pick up the--the---huh--huhCHOO!!! Huhchoo!!" His sneeze was loud and very wet sounding. "Fine?? You sound horrible Ryan!!! Are you sure you are going to be all right?" "I'b sure Chris. Ib goig to leave the hospital dow. Beet you at the airport. Love you." "Love you too." "Bye." He hung up the phone. I hoped he would be OK. I packed a very small hand bag consisting of a travel pack of tissues and tossed in a box of decongestant. After that I shoved the contents of my exploded suitcase into another bag and was finally ready to go. ***************************************************************** ****** At the airport, I visually searched for Ryan. I finally found him, khakis and green polo shirt, one hand in his pocket, head turned slightly to the right. I felt warm inside seeing him. Then I took a closer look at his face before heading up to him. His face was pale and sickly looking, his baby blue eyes, tired and bloodshot, his perfectly rounded nose, red all over. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then sneezed into the crook of his elbow. I could tell his nose was running, and he needed a tissue badly. I yelled for him. He didn't respond. I slapped myself on the head. "Duh, Chris. He can't hear you, he's deaf." I waved my arms wildly, trying to get his attention. I walked up to him waving, right as he sneezed again. "Oh hi Chris." He said in a raspy, scratchy voice. Now sometimes, Ryan's vice sounds funny simply because he can't hear himself. But this time it sounded as though he had a monster of a cold. "Hi sweetheart!" I leaned over to receive our usual kiss. But he pulled away in a burst of coughing. I looked at him again worriedly. He didn't look very well. "Ryan, are you all right?" He nodded and rubbed his nose with the palm of his hand. "I'm fine Chris. Really. Umm, about those tissues I asked you to get? I think I....I..." Oh I was so stupid! I had packed the cold medicine and the tissues along with everything on the plane! I quickly rummaged through my purse as Ryan attempted to fight off the sneeze. I produced an old, but usable napkin just in time. "HehSHOOO!!! Hah--AhCHOO!!" His sneezes were muffled by the napkin, but I could tell how strong they were. Ryan blew hard, and winced at the touch of the napkin against his red nose. He was in no shape for Italy, even though he told me he was fine. "Ryan, I dont think you're up for this trip." I said taking his arm. "Let's just go home and get you right back into bed. We can always go another ti--" He interrupted me. "Are you kidding? No way! Its late to *sniff* cancel our tickets. The plane leaves in 10 minutes! Im really and truly going to be just fine." He coughed into his fist. "I'll just take some of that cold medicine, and sleep until we get to Italy, and then I will be just--just--Ahh HahCHTT!!" Ryan pinched his nose shut. "Fide. It's just a tidy little code frub--" He blew his nose into the soiled napkin. "All this cold weather weve been having. K?" He smiled at me. I felt so happy just then. My husband and I were going on our honeymoon to Italy together. At long last. I had dreamed of this day ever since I met him. In 3rd grade, he moved to Russell, Maine from Georgia, and he still hasn't gotten used to the cold yet. Anyway, he was seated next to me, and I thought I was the luckiest girl alive to be sitting next to this blond haired blue eyed boy with a gorgeous southern drawl. I still remember the first words he said to me. He started sneezing, due to some dust in the air from our classroom, and I handed him a tissue. He smiled at me and said, "Thanks. Excuse me." We had been officially seeing each other since High School, and friends way back in 5th grade when he accidentally dropped his lunch tray on my new jumper, and so I threw my container of chocolate pudding on him, but I missed slightly and some of it got on Kevin Myers. And then he started throwing food, which started a huge food fight in which we were both suspended for a week. We had gotten married just about a month ago, but we were both incredibly busy, trying to balance medical school and a job at the hospital. Trying to maintain good grades took up every spare moment. And if we were lucky enough to get a moment of rest, it was spent at the hospital, trying to bank up more hours that would look very nice on a resume down the road. We hadn't gone out together in so long, I couldn't even remember it. And kids? They were out of the picture until medical school was over. But this--I had been saving since I was 15 to go to Italy someday. I didn't quite have the money by myself, but with help from Ryan's income as well we had enough. "Flight 137 to England is now boarding. Repeat, Flight 137 to England is now boarding." A voice over the loudspeaker snapped me back to reality. "Come Ry; that's us." I said excitedly. He smiled at me. "I thought this day would never come." He said grinning mischievously. "Remember that day in 3rd grade when I came in and sat down right next to you? Well I thought to myself, 'Ryan, that thur's the purtiest gal in the whole U-nited States. You ought to get hitched and mosey on down with her to Italy." He said doing an exaggerated southern drawl. I looked at him incredulously. "How did you know that's exactly what I was thinking?" He struck a pose and said in a Clark Gables voice, "Well frankly, my dear, either I'm phsycic," He stopped to cough and I rolled my eyes. "Or... You need to think a little quieter next time." I shook my head. "I was NOT thinking out loud." I said embarrassed. "I DON'T think out loud." I mumbled trying to convince myself. He stifled a cough and retorted. "Well, whether or not you said it loud, I don't know. But I know you DID mouth it, because I read your lips." He smirked. I blushed furiously. I grabbed his hand. "Come on. We'll be late for the plane." I said trying not to make eye contact with Ryan. We boarded the plane and took our seats. Mine, next to the window, and Ryan squashed in between me and an elderly woman. We tried as best we could to get situated in the small seats. We hadn't wanted to spend that kind of money for first class tickets for the trip to England, just First Class to Italy and back, so we weren't in the best of seats. I looked around. Everyone was listening to the loud speaker and watching the stewardess in the front of the plane as she was demonstrating how to buckle seat belts, and what to do in case of an emergency and what-not. I found it rather boring, having been on a plane before, and knowing that the speech on safety would last a good 10 minutes, if not more. I turned to Ryan, and I was going to tell him that he needed to pay attention, seeing how he hadn't been on a plane since he was a small child, and he couldn't hear the loud speaker for further information. But I never got to it. I found a look on his face which I was quick to recognize. He was trying to fight off a sneeze. I couldn't blame him. He wasn't the kind to sneeze just once. Once one sneeze came out, it was only a matter of seconds before a dozen more came bursting out. Ryan absolutely hated to call attention to himself, and sneezing in the silence of the plane sure was a great way to do it. I searched my pockets, my purse and everywhere else I could think of. A napkin, tissue, something for Ryan to muffle his exhalations in. I knew he couldn't hold them in much longer. "Huh... Hushoo!" His first sneeze was soft and sounded more like a breath of air than a sneeze. Then the next sneeze came, louder and very wet. He sneezed again, and again, each louder and more fore forceful than the last. "HuhCHOO!!! AhCHOO!! huhChoo huhchoo huhchoo AHchoo!! Huh--huh--HuhSHOO!!! He bent over in his seat, his head at his knees almost. He didn't even bother opening his eyes after about the first ten. His head bobbed forward at each "CHOO" and his nose twitched wildly between sneezes. I finally found a napkin rolled up with our plastic fork and spoons. I was now faced with the difficult job of handing the tissue to the still-sneezing Ryan. I took a deep breath and shoved the tissue over his hands and covered his nose. At being able to blow his nose, his sneezes backed off. He sat up in his seat, blowing his nose, eyes teary, and said "Taks, huddy. I really deeded thad." I looked around. The stewardess at the front of the plane had her mouth dropped open, and the safety device she had been using was dangling in mid air, while she stared at Ryan. Everyone else was staring at him like he had just grown another arm. He saw the people staring and mumbled a stuffy, "Excuse be." A few Bless you's were heard, but for the most part, people inched away. The old woman put gave him a sympathetic look. "It's truly a pity that such a good-looking man like you has such a horrible cold. She didn't have Ryan's attention, nor was she looking directly at him, so he missed everything she just said. He didn't respond. The woman reapeated herself, a bit louder. "I said, It's a pity that such a handsome young man like you has such a horrible cold." Ryan was looking out the window and blowing his nose wearily, so he still didn't know what she had said to him. The woman looked slightly annoyed. The woman repeated her self again, louder, and still got no response. She gave me an irritated look. "You young people today, so rude." I put down my book, realizing what had happened. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I forgot to tell you. Ryan's deaf, so unless you touch him or something to let him know you want his attention, he doesn't know you're talking to him. He may come across rude, but it's really not intentional." I explained. The woman looked shocked. "Deaf, huh?" She said. I nodded. She bit her lip. "How-how do you talk to him?" I gave her a strange look. "Like anyone else. He can read lips. You just have to be looking right at him so he can tell what you're saying. It's no different than talking to me." She nodded. She looked at Ryan, who was holding a tissue at chest level-, breathing slowly through his mouth, as not to disturb the sneeze he felt brewing. "Oh, you poor poor, thing. Deaf AND a bad cold." She clucked her tongue and turned back to her magazine, shaking her head. Unfortunately, Ryan had squeezed his baby blue eyes shut to sneeze, so he missed what she said AGAIN. Ryan still had no clue as to what had just gone on. He sniffled and gave me a confused look. I signed to him what she had said. He scowled. I DON'T have a cold. Im absolutely fine. He shivered. Geez, it's the middle of winter. Youd think the airline would have some heat in this plane. Now the old woman was staring at him in shock too. It's very warm on this plane, son. And Im always cold! She chuckled. I rubbed Ryans thigh. Maybe you have a fever. He glared at me. I don't have a fever, Im not getting a cold, Im FINE. Besides Im cold, not hot. He snapped. "Maybe it'll be warmer in New York." He muttered rubbing his arms and shivering. As his cold worsened, he was getting quite irritable. The old woman waved down a stewardess and asked for some blankets and a box of tissues for the handsome young man with who was sick. I smiled and I thanked her. "So do you to have any children?" She asked me, trying to make polite conversation, avoiding talking to Ryan. I shook my head. "No. We want to wait until medical school is over before we can give that sort of attention to a child." The old woman smiled warmly. "Oh, that's a pity." She said. "But a smart decision. So many young people have kids before they can take care of them. But when you two do have children, they will be so beautiful, because you two are such a handsome couple." I blushed. "Blond hair and blue eyes, perfect teeth, both of you. Tall and slim, you both are so lucky!" She exclaimed "Thank you.... Really, I don't know what to say other than....thank you." I said, looking for the right words to thank her with. Fortunately, the stewardess came along with a box of tissues for Ryan and the woman got started talking with her instead of me. Ryan's face was even paler, and he looked worse, if that was possible. By the time the blankets came, Ryan was dozing on and off in a feverish sleep. The layover plane from New York had just taken off, and the old woman had asked to switch seats during Ryan's second sneezing fit, but apologized many times, saying how she really couldn't afford to get sick now, when she was going to see her grandchildren. I couldn't blame her. He sounded awful, congested breathing, sneezing right and left, and dry, spastic coughing which made his sneezing sound GOOD. I wrapped him up in one of the three blankets the stewardess handed me. Ryan sneezed again, forgetting to cover his nose and mouth. He was getting sicker. I was becoming worried, and seriously think about taking a plane home once we hit England. I could do no more than what I was already doing for him, with these limited resources. I figured Ryan had something like the flu. He hadn't had symptoms very long, and they got very much worse in a very little amount of time. I just hoped I could make him comftorable until we got a stable, warm, bed, and some medicine that I could give him. As I handed him a tissue for his runny nose, my hand brushed against his cheek. I found it to be quite warm. I slapped the back of my hand to his forehead. He was burning up!! Poor thing! I gasped at how warm he was, and Ryan snapped to attention for a moment. Ryan looked down at me, his blue eyes sad and dazed. I was amazed how quickly he had developed a fever. He sniffed and blew his nose. "Are we albost there?" I put a finger to his lips, silencing him. "No honey." I whispered. "Go to sleep, you need your rest." I said looking out the window. We weren't even halfway there yet, and I was incredibly bored. I had only brought one book, but I really didn't feel like reading it. The plane was showing a movie, but I had seen it, and found it to be very much to my disliking. I wasn't sleepy in the least, and I had no one to talk to. He tried hard to go to sleep, squirming in the small airplane seats, trying not to brush against me. I laid his head against my shoulder, where he would be much more comfterble. He popped up. "Doh. I dod't wadt to gib you by code. Hah--Hah--KuhSHH!!! Besides, I dod't wat to bother you." I gave him my most motherly look. "Bless you, and don't be silly. I've spent this much time with you, if I'm going to get sick, there's no stopping it now. Now I want you to get some sleep, and don't think twice about asking me for anything. I hate seeing you feeling this badly, and If I can do some thing for you, I will do it willingly because I love you. So if there's anything, anything at all you need, ask me, or ask one of the stewardess's. OK?" He sniffed and rubbed the side of his nose with one finger. "Yes Mommy." But he was so stuffed up, it sounded more like "Yes Bobby." He laid his head back on my shoulder and whispered. "I love you." I slipped on my headphones and grinned at the boyish look he had just then. I tried to kiss him on the cheek, then realized that was impossible with is head rested on my shoulder, and then settled for a light kiss on his cute red nose. But apparently I kissed it a little too lightly, light enough to make him sneeze, because I felt it twitch and quiver under my lips. I pulled away and grabbed a tissue hopefully in time to catch his on-coming sneezing fit. I put a tissue over his nose, but I was too late for him to take the tissue from me. "HahSHOO!!" His sneeze was wet and warm against my hand, and I was glad he had a tissue for it. "Hah--hahshoo!! Hahshoo!! huh--huh--hahshoo!!" Again, he sneezed into my hand. I balled that tissue up and tossed it in the growing pile of Kleenex by his feet. I placed a tissue over his nose, and holding it there, in case he was going to sneeze again. I heard him take a few shallow breaths, preparing to sneeze, when it died off. "Hah...hah......Huh--Huh--HUH" Nothing. I looked at his face. Beautiful, blue eyes, squeezed shut. Pale blond hair lying in damp clumps on his sweaty forehead. Handsome, red nose twitching ever so slightly. "Chris, I cad't seeb to....to...Ahhh...*sniff* sdeeze. I hate it whed id does thad. Ahh--ahhh--AHH" Nothing. "I cadn't hold the...the--hah--hah--HAH" Nothing. He rubbed his nose furiously with him palm, almost like a little boy. "You're going to rub your nose off!" I signed jokingly. He shrugged and signed back, "I probably will, with my luck." Many of the passengers were still giving us strange looks. They must be wondering if Ryan was dying or something. Or maybe they were the were the type to stare at people who use sign language. I asked him (signing, still, Ryan was too tired to focus on my lips) if there was anything I could do for him. He shook his head. "Doh. My dose just tickles." Oh. I wasn't sure what I could do for him in that case. "I cad't hold it back. I cad't sdeeze either. Ahhh.... Ahhh.... Huh---huh--I'b gudda--gudda--HUH" It died off again. I felt horrible for giving him such miseries, but it felt kind of good, to have that kind of power over him. But at the moment, guilt overwhelmed the feeling of power. I handed him a tissue and squeezed his arm affectionately. Not a moment had passed before he got that familiar look on his face. "Chris, I'b--I'b gudda--Ahhh--AhhhHEHCHOOOO!!!" He sneezed the biggest sneeze I have heard him sneeze. "Bless you!" I exclaimed. He sneezed again, not as forceful, and mumbled an "Excuse me." He looked truly miserable. I put my hand against his forehead to see if he had gotten any worse. No, he still felt warm, about the same, but that was still warm. Then I thought to ask for a thermometer. The airline crew was very helpful, bringing me all these things so willingly. I put the thermometer in his mouth, even though he tried to hide it, I could tell he needed to sneeze. "No Ryan, not now!" I exclaimed. "You can't sneeze with a thermometer in your mouth. You'll bite down on it and break it. Only 50 seconds more to go." But I could tell that he couldn't wait that long. "Cuh you han may a tithew? He said mumbling through the thermometer. I got a tissue and saw that wasn't what he needed. His face was frozen, trying to keep the sneeze in. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and stuck my finger under his nose. I pressed upward firmly, but not to hard. He looked gratefully at me. Taking a tissue in one hand, and putting one hand on the thermometer, I watched my watch. "20, 19, 18, 17," I whispered. I pulled my finger out from under his nose. He twitched and wiggled it wildly. "Just a few more seconds Ry. Hold it in for just a second.... 8 , 7, 6, 5...." I slipped the tissue over his nose and popped out the thermometer. "HaSHOO!!" He exploded. "Hahshoo!! Hahshoo!! Hah--hahshoo!! Ah--HAHSHH!" He sneezed soft and nasally against my hand which still had the tissue in it. He realized that he was still sneezing into my hand, and blushed furiously. "I'b--HaSHH--sorry--HaSHHH HahSHHH I did't--hah--hahCHSHH!!" He was unable to talk as he was caught in an unusually large fit of sneezes. I took a look at the thermometer. 99.7. Not too bad, but enough that he was uncomftorable, and would be fully conscious and awake to experience every symptom of the flu. He would remember each cough, each sniffle and sneeze, and each chill that shook his body. He shivered and asked meekly, "What is it? I'm not too deathly ill am I?" He said, managing to smile while feeling that awful. Sympathy for him overwhelmed me. I kissed him on the cheek. "Bless you. No sweetheart." I signed. "You're not on death row yet. You've got a fever of 99.7, which isn't that bad, but it isn't good either." He nodded. "Oh. *sniff*" "Ryan, really and truly, no more macho-tough guy-I'm-not-sick-let-me-sit-here-and-suffer stuff, how do you feel?" I asked gently. He sniffled. "I feel horrible. I don't even remember the last time I felt this bad. I just wish we'd hurry up and land so I could get to a bed and some heat. I'm freezing and I feel like sleeping, but my head aches too much and my throat stings something awful everytime I swallow and cough." He shivered and coughed, wincing at the pain. Dinner had come through, but I passed it away, Ryan certainly wasn't up to eating it, and I was too busy supplying Ryan with Kleenexes, wiping his nose dry and trying to coax him asleep. He finally fell asleep around 8 o clock, Eastern time, I had no idea what time it was wherever we were. I smiled. I kissed him gently on the lips. I took his hand in mine, rubbing it softly. I felt incredibly sorry for Ryan, feeling so miserable, but I also felt happy that Ryan needed me so much. One of the stewardess's walked by me about half an hour after Ryan dozed off. She looked at Ryan, pale face, red nostrils, ruffled hair, snoring from his congested nose, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Is he OK?" I shook my head negatively. "He's got a light fever. I think it's the flu." I whispered. "But he'll be OK." She looked concerned. "Is there anything I can get him--or you for that matter?" I nodded. I was hungry. I hadn't eaten dinner with helping Ryan. "Maybe--some food?" I asked quietly, not wanting to wake Ryan. "I never got dinner. And some cold medicine, if you have it." The woman shook her head. "I can bring you some food, but we don't have any cold medicine. When we stop to switch planes in England you can buy some cold medicine there." She walked away. I sighed. Ryan undoubtedly needed the medicine. But he would probably be too sick to leave the plane. I sighed and waited patiently for my food to come. About half an hour later, the woman finally brought me a plate of what everyone else had been having that--baked chicken, which I could have sworn was NOT chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans-which weren't very green if you know what I mean. It looked more like a meal from a school cafeteria, but I was just happy to have the food. She also handed me a bowl of chicken soup and a mug of hot tea for Ryan, whenever he woke up. I thanked her and she left. I very slowly and carefully pryed open the table built in to the back of the chair in front of us. With Ryan sprawled out, it was going to be very hard not to wake him while eating. But I couldn't do it with the table up. I put the food down and felt around under my seat for a travel kit I knew they put under everyone. The travel kit usually ad things like a hairbrush, small pillow, toothbrush.... I figured I'd brush my hair now. It must look a mess. I pulled the travel kit out from the seat and broke it open. Just as I thought. Hairbrush, toothbrush, pillow, dental floss, a packet of Tylenol, a pencil, paper--TYELNOL?? I almost screamed with happiness!! Tylenol! That was exactly what Ryan needed. I pawed through the contents some more, looking for any more medication. I excitedly pulled out a sample packet of cough drops, and a small pack of tissues. I gently shook Ryan, figuring he should drink the tea while it was still hot. He awoke and automatically sneezed. I already had a tissue ready, so it was caught. I kissed him on the cheek and waited until he was looking at me until I signed, "Hi sweetie. Do you feel up to drinking some tea and downing some pills?" He rubbed the side of his nose with one finger. "Doh. Doh way. By throat is killig be and I cad't swallow." He mumbled. I held the teacup about level with his chin and instructed "Breathe." He inhaled the steam. His nose crinkled realizing what he had just inhaled and frowned. "Tea, isn't it?" I nodded. "So what?" He began to breathe through his mouth in shallow, small breaths, trying not to sneeze. "I'b allergic to tea, rebeber?" I gasped. I did remember! I wasn't thinking of his allergies, only of the steam that would help clear his sinuses. "It had to be teh.....teh....I'm gonna...I'm gonna... sneeze." He sneezed almost instantly. I handed him a tissue to catch the next three sneezes which were loud, breathy and sounded more akin to his allergies than his cold. He stifled another allergy-sneeze and inhaled deeply, out of breath from the sneezes. Mistake. His sneeze came loud and unexpected so he didn't have a chance to cover it. I was sprayed lightly, but I didn't mind. He sniffled and apologized. Then he warned me he felt a few more sneezes coming on. He took a deep breath and let out three perfect sounding, "HutCHOO!!s" He took a long and thorough sniff, trying to keep his nose from running. "Chris? Had be a tissue please. I'b gudda sdeeze. Huh.....Huh....HuhHUTCHOO!! EHCHOO!!!" He bent over in a sudden fit of loud and harsh sneezes. Very different from his cold-sneezes which sounded more like waves on the ocean, "AhShoo" or "HahSHH" soft and delicate, not anything like a man. His allergy- sneezes on the other hand, were masculine and explosive. They were a "HutCHOO!!!" Loud and attention-drawing. Ironically, the cold sneezes were what shook Ryan's body. His shoulder blades jutted out, and his head bobbed forward violently in the unexpected sneeze. It took him a few minutes to get situated after a cold sneeze. Though during an allergy fit, Ryan rarely lost his composure. He could tell when each sneeze was coming, and often warned me. After about his 15th sneeze Ryan pushed the teacup away. "Is this really necessary for me to be going through this tor...HutCHOO!! Torture?" I sighed. "It's not my fault you have so many darn allergies. The steam of the tea will work as a decongestant, since we don't have any." He shrugged, but did it anyway. After a few more sniffs and sneezes, Ryan said, "You know, I think you're right. My nose is much less stuffed-up." He said smiling. He stifled yet another sneeze and blew his nose. Inhaling the steam helped a bit, because I could hear less congestion in his voice when I went to give him the soup and he hungrily sniffed at it. I tapped him on the shoulder and signed, "Good boy. Eat." He looked back to his teacup and soup bowl. "I'm not a dog. I have a name, and it's not 'good boy'. I can't drink or eat anything--my throat hurts too much. Didn't you say you had some pills? I've got a killer headache now, to accompany the sneezing, coughing, chills, runny nose, sore throat, muscle aches, fever, tiredness, and general feeling of BLEAH." I smiled. The nap must have helped him some. He sounded a little more like his usual self. "Well, let's see. I've got tissues for the sneezing and runny nose, cough drops for the coughing and sore throat, Tylenol for the aches and fever, blankets for the chills, the general feeling of BLEAH should go away with rest, and for the tiredness.... Well, I can offer you a shoulder to sleep on." Ryan grinned. "Always prepared, huh?" "Hey, you never when you're gonna use this stuff. Especially the shoulder." "I love you Chris. You don't have to do all this for me. Thank you." "It's nothing. I like taking care of you. It makes me feel good to take of sick people. Why do you think I became a doctor, silly?" He smiled. "I guess you're right. You really don't mind taking care of me?" I shook my head. "Mind?? I want to mother you. I think you're adorable when you're sick." Ryan thought about this. "Good. Cuz I feel really awful. Take care of me, Chris." He murmured sleepily. "Sure. Anytime. Besides," I said jokingly, "You look so sexy with that pale, fresh-from-the-grave look. And that red nose? I dare you to find me a movie star with a cuter one." Ryan grinned and sat up for a moment. "But I'll warn you now, if I get really sick, I act like a little kid. It's kind of embarrassing, actually. When I get sick, I get whiney. It's common knowledge, ask my mom. But I'm just giving you fair warning, OK??" I reached up and ruffled his hair. "Gotcha." I said grinning. He stretched, which was a bad idea, because it sent him into a 5 minute cough fit. I gave him some cough drops to suck on, and the Tylenol to swallow. Ryan generally seemed a little bit better. I had a little trouble eating, because with one hand I was eating, and the other hand was holding Ryan's cold one. Once we were finished, I gave the stewardess the empty bowls and plates. Ryan sniffed and looked out the window into the darkness. "How buch logger do you thick id'll be?" I gave him a funny look. "Huh?" I said Then, remembering he couldn't hear me, I tapped him on the shoulder and signed "What did you say?" "I said, How buch logger do you thick id'll be?? Udtil we ged there thad is?" "What? Blow your nose. I can't understand a word of what you are saying." I said handing him a tissue. He blew his nose hard, and sounded a teensy bit better. "I said, whad. Tibe. Do. You. Thick. We. Will. Ged. There." He said, enunciating each word. I still couldn't understand him. I shook my head. "Nope, can't understand ya." He heaved a great sigh and frustratedly signed what he was trying to say. "A few hours or so at best." I said blushing and looking down. My head was pulled up by Ryan's strong hand. He gave me a look. "I can't tell what you're saying if you look down. How many times do I have to tell you?" He signed angrily. He frightened me a bit, with the angry look in his eyes. "I'm sorry." I signed. "I keep forgetting. We'll be in England a few hours from now." "Oh." He slammed back into his seat, quietly fuming. I had no idea why. Had I done something to make him mad? I was about to ask him when I noticed the sad look on his face. "I'b sorry." He said, stuffy nose coming back. "What for?" "For deeding so--so--Huhshoo-- buch atted-shud. Takig up your tibe. I'b sooo bad at byself! We're dot eved id Eglad yet, and--and" He said looking down, searching for the words, but not finding them. "What??" I interrupted him. "Are you crazy? What makes you think I care about anything more than your health? Ryan, if you're feeling bad, it's my duty to take care of you." I said yawning. I hadn't gotten much sleep last night from the hospital run at midnight. I was tired. He smiled. "I love you." I nodded. "Yah, same to you." I said softly, even though I knew he didn't see me say it, because he had shut his eyes. I settled back in my chair, listening to only to Ryan's humming. A lot of people think he doesn't know what music is, but they're wrong. They forget about the 15 years Ryan heard music, and was in band also. He sometimes hums hymns he remembers from church, or classical songs by Mozart, whatever pops up into his mind. It's rather comforting, hearing his soft voice, even though he can only hear it in his head. He says it helps him get to sleep. ***************************************************************** ****** I awoke about an hour later, as the plane was stopping. It was still dark outside. The plane's lights flipped on. I realized Ryan was still asleep. I quickly covered his eyes with my hand. With those bright lights on, he'd wake up, and he hadn't gotten that much sleep. Everyone was yawning and gathering their things. But then I saw the lights of the English Airport and got excited. I pulled my hand away from Ryan, and put them both up against the window. With my arm not shielding him from the light anymore, Ryan snapped awake. "Are we there yet?" He asked groggily, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He yawned and stretched. "Nah. I was just about to *cough cough* wake up anyway." He said sniffling. "Well, we're in England now, sweetie." I said excitedly. "Let's get our stuff and go." I grabbed my book, cassette player and Ryan's hand and hurried off the plane, Ryan staggering behind me, coughing every few steps. We pushed past the crowds of people, dead tired. I was tired from not sleeping the entire trip and he was tired from being ill the whole flight. I made it to the front of the airport and stepped outside. I inhaled deeply and grinned. "Ahh. English air." Ryan murmured a reply. I didn't even have to look at him. I could hear it in his voice that he was feeling worse than before. He opened his mouth to say something but instead doubled over in a coughing fit. Fortunately, the hotel we were staying at for the night was just across the street from the airport. Holding Ryan's hand like a mother holding her three-year- old's hand, I looked both ways up and down the busy street. I pulled him across, and made it into the hotel. I practically dropped Ryan into one of the chairs by the front desk. I went to the person at the desk and said, "Give me my key. I'm Christina Blake, and I'm here to check in." It was a nice looking young man, dark brown hair, sparkling green eyes, about 6 feet tall, a little older than me, in his late 20's probably 28 or so. I was 25. So was Ryan. We were only 4 months apart, with me being older. "Umm, ma'am, If I can just get you to fill out these papers before you can check in--" He said in a thick English accent. "Oh, I really can't right now. If you can just give me the key, I'll be happy to do them in the morning--" "Ma'am, I can't do that. You have to fill out these papers before I can allow you to have the key to your room." "No, no. You don't understand. I don't have the time. My husband Ryan is sick and we need to get into the room RIGHT NOW. I don't have time to fill out those papers." I said looking disdainfully at the stack of papers he held in his right hand. "Lady, I don't know where you come from, but you're not getting anywhere in this hotel until these papers are completed and in my hand again. Got it?" He said smugly. I sighed and was about to fill out the papers, too tired to argue anymore, but then I heard Ryan sneeze and whimper meekly. Fury flushed through my veins. I slammed my hands down on the counter. The clerk jumped a mile. "Look, bub," I said curtly, coming out quite short with him, mostly because I was tired and not in ANY mood to fill out papers after the flight I had just had. Not with Ryan lying half-dead on the chair in the lobby. "I'm NOT going to fill out papers right now. I am going to get into a room and take care of my sick husband. Now you can give me the key, or I can break the door down with my BARE HANDS." I growled, making a fist at him. His face grew pale. "O-OK. Christina Blake, right?" He glanced at a sheet on his desk. "R--room 103. Third d--door to you left ma'am." He stuttered handing me the key. I took the key from him and brushed off my shirt. I sighed and looked at the clerk, who was staring at me frightened. "Look, mister...." I said searching for the right words. I sighed. "I can only please a few people a day. Today's not your day." He just nodded, still pale. "Tha--that's OK ma'am. Buh--Buh--Bye now." I slipped the key into my pocket, and helped Ryan stand up, putting most of his weight on me. It was quite difficult, seeing how he's about 6 feet tall and I'm about 5' 7. His usually muscular, strong arms felt weak and helpless around me. I stumbled down the hall, to the third door on my left. Leaning a whimpering Ryan against the wall, I fumbled with the key until the door opened. The I helped Ryan to the bed. I folded back the covers, and helped him in, with his clothes still on. I could feel how hot he was. His forehead had beads of sweat all over it, and his face was pale except for a few areas that were flushed, which told me that his fever was higher than before. He shivered uncontrollably, and began to cough. It was a deep, dry cough tat worried me. It sounded like he had croup or something. I was now seriously worried. I grabbed my purse and was about to head out the door to go get medicine, when I realized I couldn't leave Ryan alone. Not in this state. I dropped my purse and ran into the bathroom. I searched the medicine cabinets for a first aid kit, or something like on the plane, with a thermometer, or Tylenol, something; anything. Then I remembered that hotels usually have a..... First aid kit!! Under the sink!! I ripped it open, spilling the contents out all over the sink. I frantically grabbed the thermometer, and in my frantic rage, I tripped over the door stop, and went flying. Pain shot through my knee and my wrist, which had slammed into the sink corner. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring whatever I felt bleeding. I had more important things to do. I saw Ryan lying limp in the bed. I desperately shook him and sat him up in the bed. He looked at me with confused eyes. "What are you doing here?" I froze as the blow hit me. He was dilusional. Delirious. His fever must be higher than I thought. Maybe he needs a hospital. Maybe he would die from the high fever. What if he started convulsing? My hand shook with worry. Then Ryan smiled at me, a sweet, loving, understanding smile, and said. "It's OK lady. Don't be sad. You're much too pretty to be so sad." he reached up and stroked my cheek. "Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine. I need to get back now. G'bye now lady." He leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes. I grabbed his shirt and yanked him back to a sitting position where I could keep him awake long enough for me to take his temp. All of a sudden, he flung his arms wildly. "Did you hear that?" He hollered through the thermometer. Oh heaven, I thought to myself, he must really be hallucinating. He can't hear anything. "That loud noise?? It hurts my ears." He conked out again. "Ryan! No, no honey, don't go to sleep. No, no, Chris is here, and I'm gonna get you a doctor and some medicine, and make it all better." I said to him. He kept mumbling to me about a few different things that made no sense at all. "Just, just go out the window. Out the window, it's safer that way. No, no nevermind. Don't go out the window, you might fall off the roof just like Jan. Remember Jan, from... Where is she from? And please tell the neighbors to quit buzzing so loud. They're hurting my ears." He said clutching his ears. I just took it as a good sign that he hadn't passed out. He was pretty weak though. I was holding him up in my arms. Ryan coughed uncontrollably as I slipped the thermometer into his mouth and waited.. I took in a shaky breath as I looked at the thermometer. 104.8. My heart stopped beating for a split second. "Ryan, honey. I need to take you to the doctor. You're temp is much to high." He mumbled. "No. I don't want to move. Please don't make me. Pretty, pretty please. I'm begging you Chris, don't make me." He said whimpering softly as a tear rolled down his cheek. All my heart went out to Ryan. Poor thing. He really must be feeling badly. I was about to go get some ice to bring down his fever, when I felt him go limp in my arms. Either he had passed out from the high temperature, or he was asleep. I decided that if his fever didn't break by morning, I would take him to the doctor's. I heard heavy, raspy breathing coming from Ryan, so I figured he was fast asleep. I tried to calm my trembling hands. I kept hearing a little voice in my head saying, "You're a doctor. You should know what to do." But then another little voice went off in my head, saying "Why would you knowo what to do? You went into neurology, not pediatrics!" I took one of the pillows from the other bed and propped Ryan up on it so that he would breathe better. Then I took the blankets of the other bed and tucked him in them as tightly as I could so he would stay warm through the night. As I changed into a long flannel nightgown, I noticed dry blood on my cheek, and my knee was still bleeding. I also had a monster bruise on my wrist. I washed off my cuts and scrapes, and applied Band-Aids. Then I climbed into bed beside a shivering Ryan. I held his cold hand and debated about whether to try to bring his fever down. Then I realized how sleepy I was. I just couldn't move to get out of bed... But I needed to hold a cold compress to his forehead. Yes, that was right. If only I could move. If I could just open my eyelids...... ***************************************************************** ****** The next thing I knew, I was all alone in a hospital waiting room. I didn't know why I was there or where Ryan was. Then, the lights went out. I heard a voice from behind. "Christina, Ryan's dead." Another voice joined in. "And it's all you fault." "You should have taken him to the doctor." Another voice joined the two. "You knew you should have, but you didn't." "And now Ryan's dead." "And it's all your fault." Another set of voices came to join the verbal bashing. "You could have saved him, but you didn't. You killed him, Christina." "What?" I exclaimed, looking around. I couldn't see anything, it was pitch black. "I didn't kill Ryan! I love him! I would never--" "It's all your fault! It's all your fault!" They said, over and over again. I screamed, no, no, stop it, but they didn't stop. Again and again they screamed until lit got so loud I couldn't take it. I slammed my hands over my ears and threw myself on the ground. The voices were gone. I just heard incessant, dry coughing. My eyes opened, to the harmonic melody of raspy coughing. It was still dark outside. "What a horrible dream." I murmured to myself. I rubbed my eyes sleepily and looked at the clock, trying to make out the blurry numbers. It looked like about 2:47. But that 2 could have been a 5. And that 4 could have been a 9. I wasn't paying to much attention to the clock. I was paying attention to the empty space beside me and the harsh coughing coming from the bathroom. I made my to the tiny bathroom, where the door was shut and the lights were on. I opened the door and squinted at the bright light. Ryan was sitting on the edge of the tub, coughing hard into his fist, body shaking with each cough. He looked like something from the living dead. I have never seen him so pale, nor have I heard him cough so much in the years I have known him. He saw me standing in the doorway. He pulled his hands away from his mouth long enough to sign "I'm sorry I woke you up." "Oh sweetheart, think nothing of it." I said kissing the top of his head. I sat down on the tub next to him. I rubbed and patted his back while waiting for him to finish coughing. After a few minutes he finally did, nose running and eyes tearing. I put my hand to his forehead. Hot. No worse, but no better either. "Can I take you temp again sweetheart?" I asked kindly. His eyes were half shut so he didn't see my lips. As he doubled over in another fierce coughing fit, I retrieved his hearing aid. If he was this sick, he would no way be able to focus on lip-reading, or signing for that matter. I helped him slip it in his ear, Ryan coughing the whole time. When it died down again, I said in my kindest voice, "Sweetie? Can I take you temp again?" He nodded weakly. "Come on. Let's get you back in bed. As soon as a doctor's office is open, I'm gonna take you there, all right?" He didn't move. "Did you hear me, Ryan?" I asked again. His eyes were closed. Maybe the hearing aid needed new batteries, or I didn't put it in right. "I heard you. I can't move. I want to go home." He cried. "I don't want to be here! I'm sick and I want to be in my own bed in my own home with Chris." He whined hoarsely. I took the whining as a good sign he hadn't passed out because of the fever. "Ryan, honey, I'm right here. Chris is here." He looked startled. "Oh. Hi Chris." He sniffed, nose running freely. "I didn't see you there." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Well, here I am." I said handing him a tissue. "Now, Chris is gonna help you into bed, OK? I know it isn't your own bed at we're not at home, but it will have to do." I said rather loudly, hoping he would hear me. "OK." He said, coughing a few more times before trying to stand up. As soon as he was on his feet, Ryan collapsed into my arms, both hands on his head. "Geez, I'm dizzy. Hold still would you Chris?" He mumbled. I wasn't very equipped to carry Ryan to bed, with me being about 60 pounds lighter and a good 4 inches shorter. But he was in no condition to walk by himself, so I staggered back to the bed and helped Ryan get back under the covers. By this time, he wasn't coughing, but sniffling and shivering wildly. He pulled out the hearing aid and laid in on the bedside table. "No. I don't like it. It feels bad." I tucked him in. "Ryan I'm gonna take your temperature, OK?" He nodded and coughed. His eyes were far to bright and his cheeks flushed with fever. I came back from the bathroom moments later, shaking the thermometer. I slipped it into his mouth and counted slowly to thirty, seeing how I didn't know where my watch was, that would have to do. I pulled out the thermometer. 105.3. It was higher. I felt horrible inside. Ryan needed to get to a doctor right away., before he got any worse. But he was to big for me to carry him and way to sick to walk to the car himself. Not knowing what else to do, I called 911 with shaky hands. I explained my situation. The operator told me an ambulance would be along soon. The next half hour went by in a blur. The came, and scared an already frightened Ryan. He kept crying out, until they finally put a mask on him to help monitor his breathing. I don't remember much other than the scared look on his face, and holding his hand. The next thing I knew, I was pacing the waiting room of an English Hospital at 4 in the morning, with no sleep, and very worried about Ryan. Suddenly, a nurse appeared in the doorway. "Ms. Blake?" "Yes?" I asked sleepily. "What's wrong with Ryan? Is he going to be OK?" "You will have to ask the doctor that ma'am. Come this way, please." She lead me down a small hallway to in front of a door where an exotic looking doctor was waiting for me. The doctor took a deep breath and looked at me with solemn eyes. He looked like he was from India or somewhere like that. He had a very dark complexion, dark eyes and dark hair, and he didn't sound like he spoke much English. His R's rolled off his tongue and his phrases were short and choppy in an Indian accent. "Madam, I. Am sorry. To inform you. That your husband; eez dead." He said, his voice rising on the long and drawn out "Eez" and coming back down on "dead." I screamed and collapsed to the floor, screaming in horror. Someone came running. "What's wrong?" "I tell her, her husband eez dead. Then she fall down." "You dipwad!! That doesn't say Blake! It says McKinnon! You just told this poor lady her husband is dead!" "Oh. Whoopsie-Daisy. Madam??" The Indian doctor bent to me. "I make mistake! See?" He held up a chart. "Husband; not dead. Somebody else's husband, dead." I sat up, out of breath from screaming. "Oh thank you. Thank you God. He's still alive." The other doctor, a man who looked about 40, and had thinning brown hair and warm brown eyes helped me up. "Your husband isn't dead. That is an exchange student, and he, well... Can't read English too well yet." I nodded. "How is he? He's going to be OK, isn't he?" The man nodded. "Ryan has a virus. It's similar to Pneumonia. We've been seeing a lot of it lately. There really isn't anything we can do, other than give him some aspirin for the fever and let the virus run it's course." I was shocked. "That's all? Just give him those pills and let him be?" That sounded awfully simple. "Well; no. It's not that easy." Darn. I knew there had to be a catch. "He needs those pills for the fever," He said, pointing to the pills in my left hand. "These pills are a decongestant, this is cough syrup, this is a spray for his throat," The doctor spouted off, handing me bottle after bottle of medicine. "And he will need a stable bed for the next week or so--" My face fell. Our plane tickets to Italy were for tomorrow afternoon. But I couldn't go. Not with Ryan feeling so poorly and needing so much attention. But I was so looking forward to our honeymoon. Then I mentally scolded myself. "Bad girl." I thought to myself as the doctor rattled on about the importance of Ryan getting enough Vitamin C or somewhat. "You aren't going on this honeymoon just to go to Italy. You are going on it to spend time alone with Ryan. And that's what you're going to do. Whether spending time with him is on an Italian beach, or giving him tissues and cough syrup." I instructed myself. The doctor was finally done yapping, and I asked if I could see Ryan. He said of course, that he would be ready to go home just as soon as I signed the release papers. I shifted all the medicine bottles into one hand so I could scratch out a signature. Ryan was waiting for me by the door, half-asleep in a wheel chair. The hospital insisted on wheeling him out to the car, when I realized I had no car. I had ridden in the ambulance on the way over! Fortunately, the kind nurse offered to drive us. I thanked her, glad to get back. Ryan was just enough awake to stumble into our room and fall into bed to sleep the last hour or so before daylight. I felt his forehead. Nice and cool. The medicine the hospital gave him must be kicking in. I was very tempted to crawl into bed next to him, now that he wasn't tossing and turning and talking in a feverish haze, but I had something to do first. I grabbed my purse, threw on my jacket, and kissed Ry's forehead before running out the door. ***************************************************************** ****** I returned about 4 hours later, tired but satisfied, to find Ryan sitting up in bed, wiping his nose with a tissue. "Hey." He said, sounding very congested and hoarse, but generally better. "Where were you? Our plane leaves today! We don't have much longer to get packed and everything." He smiled at me warmly. "I know that's what you've always wanted. To go to Italy. Our dream is just about ready to come true." I shook my head. "We're not going to Italy." He gave me an amazed look. "What? Did you just say what I think you said? Repeat please. AHHshhh!!! *sniff* I must've read you wrong." He said confused. I shook my head again. "Bless you. But.... You read me right." I said softly. "I was at the airport all morning trying to exchange our tickets." "What?!?!" He exclaimed. "Why would you do a crazy thing like that for--" He was cut off by a fit of coughing. The medicine helped a lot, but he wasn't better yet. I sat down on the bed next to him. "Ryan, listen to yourself!! You're sick honey!" He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Correction: I was sick. I'm on for Italy now." He said, putting on a smile, but I could see he was trying to hold back a sneeze. His face was still a ghastly pale, his nose still red, his eyes still tired and bloodshot. He was still sick. There was no getting around it. "Ryan, you're still sick." I said right as the sneeze he had been holding in exploded out. "The doctor said you need a week in bed at the very least. Continuing on to Italy might cause a relapse, and that's not the kind of a chance I want to take." Ryan looked at me with sad, teary eyes. "I'm so sorry." He whispered, tears spilling out onto his cheeks. "I made you miss out on what was going to be the best time of your life." He said, his nose starting to run again. I handed tossed a fresh tissue box to him. "What?? This is the best time of my life. We aren't on the honeymoon to go to Italy." He raised an eyebrow at me and blew his nose loudly. "Oh really? Well if we weren't here to go to Italy, pray tell, what were we here for?" "To be together. To spend every moment with each other. And if that's on an Italian beach, fine. And if that's in a motel in England, lying in bed watching old movies while supplying you with tissues, that's fine too." I said kindly. Ryan sniffed, and looked at me with admiration. "Golly day. That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." He said with more tears brewing in his eyes. "You gave up your trip to Italy, to be with me. Thanks." He said, stifling a sneeze as not to ruin the moment. I just hugged him, good and tight as I hadn't done in a long time. He finally pulled away in a fit of coughing. "Just *cough, cough, cough* one thing. *cough, cough* I'll haveta to take a rain check on the old movies. I seriously doubt *cough, cough, cough* that this place has Closed Captioning." I grinned. I was hoping he'd bring that up. I reached into the small bag I had brought into the room with me. "Ry, I don't think you're going to need to worry about Closed Captioning much longer." I said biting my lip, barely able to keep from bursting out in happiness. He gave me a confused look. "Come again?" "Well, you see, once I got the money from exchanging our plane tickets to Italy, I went out and bought THIS." I said pulling out the small box from the bag. His eyes grew as big as dinner plates. He looked at me excitedly. "Is it--is it--" "Oh just open it!" I exclaimed. Ryan threw his arms around me when he saw what I had bought--the newest hearing aid, which would enable Ryan to hear once more. He held me so tight, I thought I would explode. "Oh thank you thank you thank you!!! I can't believe you! I just can't believe you! I'll finally get to hear your beautiful voice once more. I've only dreamed of the day that I would get to hear your voice again!!" He screamed hoarsely, which was a bad idea, becuase it sent him into a fit of harsh, body-wracking coughing. When I heard that, I knew I had made the right decision. ***************************************************************** ****** "You must never give Tara up my dear. Land is the one thing you will have forever." Scarlett O'Hara's father said. I shifted my weight and laid my head on Ryan's shoulder, only half listening to Gone With The Wind. I was mostly watching the excited glow on Ryan's face as he heard everything for the first time. His new hearing aid was working great. He was so excited to finally be able to hear everything again. He had heard for the first 15 years of his life, but after not hearing for 10 years, your memory of sounds gets a little rusty. He still looked pretty bad. His fever had backed down to about 100, thanks to the medicine, but his face was still pale, his nose tender and red from the constant blowing and sneezing. He was laying down in bed, propped up by about three pillows, holding a tissue in one hand and my hand in his other. Every minute or so, he sniffle and wipe his nose or sneeze and cough. He was still pretty sick, but a big improvement from yesterday. "HahSHOO!!" Ryan sneezed, using the last of the tissues in that box. "Looks like I'm out again." He muttered. I paused the movie. I kissed him on the lips, sliencing him. "No. No talking. Rest that beautiful voice. I want you to get well as soon as possible, and if you talk and strain your voice, that's not going to happen." I glanced at the clock. "It's time for more cough syrup." "Hahshoo! How about sub decodgestet?" He said stuffily. I put my index finger to his lips. "No talking." I reminded him. "More decongestant? You just took some an hour ago. It should be kicking in by now." "Well--HAHchoo-- by does is stuffy agaid, ad I'b still sdeezig every 20 secods. Whether or dot id's tibe fore bore, I sure deed sub." He sneezed again, and I took the cough syrup from the night stand and poured a capful into a medicine cup and he downed it, wincing at the pain it took to swallow. I hopped up off the bed and turned and started walking toward the end of the room, with my back to Ryan. "I think we have another box of tissues back here sweetie." I called, waiting to see if he heard me. "Thad's great hud. Will you brig theb to be?" He called back stuffily. "I would do id, bud every tibe I boove, by head hurts." I smiled and found a fresh box of Kleenex for Ryan. I heard a roaring noise from outside. I looked out the window. A plane was leaving. Not just any plane, the 404, 3:20 flight to Italy. I cringed inside, then I heard a loud sniff from behind me. I looked back at Ryan, as excited as a little kid on Christmas with that hearing aid, despite the fact he still wasn't feeling very well. I took one last look at the plane and shut the drapes. Italy could wait. I had more important things to do, I told myself as I handed the tissues to Ryan, and snuggled up against him. And when he held me in his arms and kissed me lovingly, I knew I had made the right decision.