Alan opened his eyes Monday morning and marveled at how exhausted he felt. I feel like death warmed over. He turned his head to see the time. Nine – thirty? We have to be at Dr. Forrester's by eleven! Before he could wonder where Denny had got off to, he was coming through the door with a mug in one hand and a glass of what looked like a milk shake in the other which he handed to Alan. "Morning," he grumbled, "What is this, Denny?"

"Coffee – flavored Ensure. You haven't been eating so I figured it's a good idea for you to have one of my nutrition drinks." Noting the grimace on the younger man's face he urged, "Try it. I think you'll like it."

He hefted himself up and took a sip. "Not bad," he admitted, "though I don't want to make a habit of drinking it." He slowly began to slide his legs out of bed.

"How are you feeling, Alan?"

"I feel like crap. I'm going to finish this with a couple of ibuprofen and take a shower. I'll be ready to go soon. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine, but I'm really anxious for Dr. Forrester to look at you." He watched as Alan rose from the bed and went into the bathroom. "Before you get into the shower, crack the door!" he called, "You're not the only one who gets to watch the other one in the tub!"*

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Two hours later, Denny and Alan were sitting in front of Dr. Forrester awaiting the lab report for the blood he had taken from Alan. Denny, as they had hoped, was in excellent condition for his age; the experimental medication he was taking to combat Alzheimer's was presenting any side effects. He had even managed, after having enjoyed himself thoroughly during the holiday season, to drop five pounds.

It was obvious to the doctor before anything was said that Alan was ill. He was so tired, he could barely walk. After asking a few questions and hearing Alan's take on what was wrong, he had drawn blood and sent it with a rush order to the lab. "I think you're right, Alan. I admit, I'm a little surprised that someone your age contracted mono…"

"I wish people would stop saying that. I'm fifty - four years old, not one hundred and ten! Like I told you, last New Year's Eve, Denny and I found ourselves in the company of some rather rambunctious college students who found me attractive and when the clock struck midnight, three of the ladies kissed me quite deeply." He rubbed his face and Dr. Forrester could swear he looked embarrassed. "I'm certain I was infected then. I've never had mononucleosis."

There was a knock on the door followed by a clerk entering to hand an envelope to the doctor, who opened it and read quickly the report. "Well, you definitely have it now. I want you to go home, get in your bed and stay there for at least two weeks. I mean it, Alan. Take ibuprofen for aches and pains and fever. Drink lots of fluids; juice, water, coffee…"

"Ensure?" Denny asked.

"Okay, sure. But no alcohol."

"Terrific," Alan muttered, "I'll do it." He slumped into his chair. "Is there anything else? I really want to go home."

"Wait a minute!" Denny exclaimed, "You have to get a prescription, doesn't he, Doc?"

"I'm sorry, Denny, but there's nothing to be done about mono except to go through it." The doctor saw the look on the older man's face. "Denny, listen to me. Alan will be fine if he stays in bed, drinks fluids and rests. Bring him back in three weeks and I'll examine him, again."

Alan rubbed Denny's arm before slowly rising from his seat. "He's right, Denny. All I need is to get in bed and relax." He shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you for seeing me." He put his arms into his coat while Denny held it, waited for Denny to put his own coat on and then put his arm through Denny's. "Let's go home."

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Alan was propped up in bed with a tray holding a pot of hot herbal tea and a plate of scones beside him. It was two in the afternoon and he was glaring at his husband who was seated at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed and a look of determination on his face. "Denny, there is no need to hire a nurse to take care of me! All I need is bed rest!"

"You need to stay in bed as much as possible," Denny explained for what he felt was the tenth time, "I won't insist on the indignity of a bedpan, but I am insisting that you allow a nurse to sponge bathe you. I watched you this morning; you could barely stand up and you were too proud to ask for my help. I'm putting my foot down, you're doing this. Period." Denny raised his hands in supplication. "Alan, please. Let me do this. I need to do this."

Alan saw an opportunity and seized it. "I will submit to professional care if you agree to do the same."

"Why do you want me to have a nurse?" the older man asked in confusion. "Dr. Forrester just gave me a clean bill of health!"

"Not a nurse. A therapist."

"What?"

"Please don't shout, Denny. My head hurts." He took a bite of the scone and a sip of tea. "Shirley told me that you began to cry when you told her I was sick. And then when I wanted to talk to you about something you said to her, you broke down."

Denny waved his hand as if to dismiss Alan's comments. "I must be hanging around you too much. It's not like me to act like a girl. See what a bad influence you can be?"

"I know you're making jokes because you want me to forget about it, but I can't. I can understand you're concerned because I'm ill. I haven't had much more than a cold in all the time you've known me, so I think I would be upset if you didn't care. But, Denny, I know you. You are terrified, even after what Doctor Forrester said. I think you need to speak to someone about it. If you agree to do that, I'll drop my objections to you hiring a nurse for me."

"I am not scared!" Denny began to shout, but shushed himself. "Sorry," he continued in a softer voice, "I'll think about it, but only because I think having a nurse visit would be a good thing. Get some rest. I'll come back when I'm ready to go to sleep. Oh, and I'm turning off the phone in here so you won't be disturbed."

Alan squirmed down under the covers. "Thanks, Denny. See you later," he muttered as he was already falling asleep. He didn't even hear Denny leave the room.

*ref. "Happily We Move Along"