[MISSION: the sending a group of people by a church to carry out a special duty, task or assignment]




As the three of them entered the room, my attention quickly turned from Ks tears to the super surgeon, whose face I was unable to see through the glass window but was now staring at – not believing what my eyes beheld.

Holy *****, I exclaimed, BETTE, what are you doing here?

Every single stinkin person in that hospital room looked at me as if I were a complete and utter moron, a look I was quite accustomed to.

I cant believe youre here, Bette, that youre my doctor. I thought I left you up there, in the light, that heaven-like place with all the dead people. *****, Bette, what is going on? I asked as I shook my head still amazed at the sight before me.

Before she could answer, the two nurses looked at me then back at the her, then back at me, then at K and Richard, all the while shaking their heads and putting their index fingers near their temples and making circles as if to say shes nuts, doc, gone loco that patient there, not right in her head.

The two women pulled the super surgeon aside and whispered to her in voices not lost on me.

Doc, we dont know who this Bette character is but Beach was talking to her just before she regained consciousness, said the older Oprah-look-a-like nurse. Mumbling and a-ramblin on about bright lights, and some guy named Trey and her mother and about this Bette woman inviting her to some bizarre place.

Yea, and when she woke up she started telling us about two ***** people named Dana and Albert and about coming out to your parents, chimed in the other Bridget-Fonda-ish younger nurse. She was talking to us as if we should know all these people and thought we were foolish for not having a clue about what she was saying. Very strange, Doc. She seems to be recovering almost miraculously but is acting very, very, strange.

Hey you nursing knuckleheads, I said rather loudly making sure I got their attention. I may have had a heart attack but I can still hear. And you ARE a couple of fools for not knowing about Dana and ALICE, you nit wits, Dana and ALICE. AL –ICE. Jeez, I cant believe it, I sighed in frustration and looked toward the end of the bed seeking any type of support from K and Richard.

But to my dismay the two of them were frozen solid, K with her arms crossed and wrapped tightly across her body, staring at me as if I were speaking a foreign language And Richard, standing there with one arm around Ks shoulder, holding her close to him as if to protect her from me, the nutcase in the hospital bed before them.

WHAT? I asked as I looked to them for help in pleading my case before the three medical misfits. Help me out here guys. Say something. Come on K, you know all about Dana and her struggles with her sexuality and telling her parents. Remember? You KNOW what I am talking about right?

She looked at me, then looked at Richard, then back at me and said nothing..

Getting nowhere with my lover and my neighbor, I decided to ask for a little divine intervention.

Hey , doc I could use a little help here, just a tiny explanation from you would go a long way with this crowd

Bette furled her eyebrows and pressed an index finger her lips as if to tell me to be quiet. She shook her head slowly from side to side so as not to draw the attention of the others in the room.

Jesus Christ Bette, what is that supposed to mean? Come on help me out here. Tell them what is going on with me, why I am getting better so quickly. Tell them about the lights and heaven and the missions and the signs Im supposed to read. Good God Bette, say something.

Now, Beach, what did I tell you before about calling me more than one name? Any one of those is fine by themselves . . Jesus . . . Christ . . . God . . . or Bette. No need for redundancy.

AH HA! I screeched as I tried to sit up in the bed, did you guys hear that? Did you hear what the super surgeon just said? I turned and shot a pleading glance toward K and Richard, shrugging my shoulders, my mouth and eyes both wide open. Richards grip on Ks shoulder tightened as he drew her closer, both of them looking at me as if I were in need of a straight jacket.

Again I looked to Bette for some kind of help and all I saw was that finger on her lip thing again almost ssshhhing me. So I lay there, silent as instructed, and I heard the super surgeon tell the nurses that she would look into changing my medication, that bouts of dementia were not uncommon immediately after major surgery, that I was doing extremely well and would be even better after a few days. Everything would be fine. I turned to watch as Bette escorted the two women to the door . They stopped and looked back at me, waving, See you tomorrow Beach. I may have been under holy orders, but I couldnt resist – I think it was a sign – I read it and spoke up . . .



Hey, Bridge, remember what I said about telling your parents. Its the best way, trust me. The younger nurse smiled and gave me the thumbs up and I knew I wasnt as loony as they thought . . In fact I do believe that Dr. God, aka, Bette, winked her approval.

Bette then walked over to the end of the bed, joining K and Richard. She was positioned slightly behind K and looked at me, AGAIN pressing an index finger to her lips and waving her other hand, shaking her head as if to tell me to be quiet, stop talking so crazy. Putting her arm around Ks shoulder and sandwiching my wife between herself and Richard, she told K that she would be back in a few moments, that K and I could use some time alone, that I was doing well enough that K could stay awhile past visiting hours.

Releasing herself from Richards grasp and biting her bottom lip to fight the tears, K turned to the doctor and gave her a hug, saying Thank you, Dr. Hartman, thank you for everything. As the doctor hugged my wife she looked over Ks shoulder at me and winked causing me to sit up and once again say,

Bette, what is going on? Im starting to get a little scared here. What the ***** is going on?

I think I will just leave you two alone for a while. When I come back we will discuss some of the inevitable changes that must occur in your diet (SORRY DOC, NO WAY WILL I BE GIVNG UP DEW AND DONUTS), your work habits (SORRY DOC THE SHRINK IS HELPING ME WITH THE FAN FIC ADDICTION BUT I STLL CANT SEEM TO GET TO WORK ON TIME) and in the bedroom (DOUBLE SORRY DOC, NO ***** WAY WILL I GIVE UP ***** IN PUBLIC PLACES OR ***** ALL OVER THE HOUSE ON SUNDAYS). Richard, why dont you come with me and well grab a cup of coffee in the cafeteria.

Im right behind ya Doc, my neighbor said. Karen, honey, Im going to go home and bring you some clean clothes and some real food. Javi will whip you something up cause I know you will want to stay here. And dont you worry at all about that dog of yours. He can come stay with us for a few days – maybe I can teach him a thing or two about discipline and respect while hes there.

K giggled and hugged Richard thanking him for all his help. As those two embraced, I leaned way over and nearly fell off the bed as I watched Bette leave the room and once again hold her fingers to her lips and wink.

{*****, MOTHER ***** WHAT IN THEE ***** IS GOING ON???)

Beach, darlin, you take care and I will see you soon. You gave us a real scare there, girlfriend. Just be thankful your special K was around to save your life. Karen , Ill be back later. Stay strong sister, everything is OK,

And with those words Richard and the doc departed, leaving me and K alone. Before I could say anything in the way of an explanation for my behavior, she pulled up a chair to the edge of the bed, grabbed my hand, and lay her cheek in my palm. Her tears drenched my wrist and I touched her head with my free hand, running my fingers through her hair still spattered with wood chips, my broken heart aching with a need to comfort her.

I scooted way over on the tiny hospital bed and patted the spot I had just vacated. K looked up and I tossed my head back in a silent motion that said volumes. . . come join me.

K kissed the palm of my hand and then turned it so the back of it was against her cheek. With her eyes closed she sat straight up in the chair, sighed, gripped my hand tighter and listened to me pat the bed again, inviting her to slip in beside me.

She opened her eyes and locked them with mine for just a minute. Again I tossed my head back a little encouraging her to hop up into the bed. She smiled and slowly climbed in next to me, snuggling up close, wrapping one arm around my chest, her fingers carefully tracing the staples and stitches which remained under my gown. She buried her head in my neck as I again ran my fingers through her hair, holding her close.

In a voice barely audible, K began to whisper into my neck, thanking God that I was ok, thanking God that she had not killed me while trying to save me, thanking God that she would have the chance to say all the things to me she didnt say before.

As I lay there on my back, my eyes to the ceiling I couldnt help but smile as I mouthed the words . . .Did you get that Bette? She thanks you. And so do I. Thank you Bette for K, for saving me, for giving me a purpose, although I still am not real clear what it is. Thank you.

I was overwhelmed with the need to tell K right then and there just how much she meant to me, how much I needed her in my life especially now to help with the new found purpose, how much I loved her and how it was going to be.

But before I could get one word out of my mouth, K turned on her side and propped her head on her hand, elbow bent and proceeded to tell ME how it was going to be !!

Babe, I need to talk to you about what happened but first . . .I hate to tell you this baby, but I am NEVER going to let you read ***** FAN FIC before ***** all over the house on Sundays ever again. I truly believe that was a contributing factor to the heart attack. No more whatshernames stuff – although her *****-like ***** style of writing is extremely hot and makes me moist as well, she is off limits. From now on if you want to get yourself all stirred up before you come to me on Sundays, you can read your favorite duo.

The mere thought of me reading HER and THE OTHER ONE to, as K put it stir me up made us both giggle out loud. It was a standing private joke between us that my two favorite FAN FIC authors, the ones who hooked me so badly so many months ago, couldnt write *****-like ***** between Bette and Tina if their lives depended on it. Those two could dish the mush and spin a love story like nobodys business, but their ability to steam up the pages with ***** was certainly not like whatshernames. – now that ***** could write *****-like ***** scenes for sure ! SHE and THE OTHER ONE spattered sugary sweet tenderness all over the site and its what I crave most of the time – I love that *****, but when I need a little inspiration and imagination in the bedroom, on the couch, in the pool, up on the counter or tabletop, over the chair or in the workshop with a chainsaw, I seek whatshername!!! But it sounds like I just might be cut off if K has her way.

Still giggling, I pulled K down next to me, wincing just a little at the pain from the broken rib I got when K attempted CPR. I kissed her on the top of her head, hoping she didnt notice my movements.

K, I know we need to talk about what happened and all, but I really need to ask you something first.

What is it , babe? You feel ok? Need something?

No, no, just a little question is all. That Dr. Hartman, the cardiac surgeon, the one who operated on me . . .what does she look like?

K sat up a bit, looking startled at my question, looking worried again for my health.

Why, babe? What is this all about?

Please, K, just tell me what she looks like. Describe her.

Are you telling me you cant see her when she is in the room? Are you sure you are feeling OK right now?

K, for the love of Bette, just describe the super surgeon, please.

Jeez, babe, relax. Ok, ok, shes short like me about 56 and is the spitting image of Meg Ryan. Actually quite attractive – maybe I should be jealous !

(MOTHER ***** – – AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES BETTES IMAGE EVERYWHERE?? SOMETHING IS JUST NOT RIGHT)

Whats wrong, baby? Are you alright.?

I took a deep breath, as deep as I could with the rib thing and all and decided I really needed to know. Ill tell K how much she means to me later, right now I need to know.
So, K, she looks like Meg Ryan? She wasnt tall, long dark hair, looking fabulous and so much like Bette?

Babe, you have been saying Bettes name all night long. Who the heck is Bette?

BETTE, K, THEEE BETTE, BETTE PORTER, L-WORD BETTE, Jesus Christ K, BETTE . . .

I was getting frustrated and K sat up looking at me as if I were a complete and utter moron . . . . .


TBC . . .