Satisfied, I reach for the ECG equipment and wrap the cables around my hand. "Next, I need to attach the electrodes to your chest to monitor your heartbeat."
Nodding, he sets the EEG helmet aside, pulls up his T-shirt, and exposes a very well-toned abdomen. Inevitably, I hold my breath as I take a step toward him.
"Be careful, it's cold," I say before placing the first electrode on his skin.
A faint hiss escapes his mouth as I position it beneath his left breast. I continue, slowly working my way toward the sternum. One electrode after another finds its place until I have positioned all the sensors near his heart. I focus solely on the small patches of skin where the electrodes need to be placed, blocking out everything else. As best I can.
Without lifting my eyes, I reach for the next set of electrodes. "These two go on your shoulders."
For the first time since we started the procedure, he hesitates. But before I can ask why, he gathers himself and pulls his T-shirt over his head. As soon as I see his bare upper body, I understand why he didn't want to expose himself. A thick scar runs along his left shoulder. The injury must have been severe.
I look at his face questioningly, but he just shakes his head.
Without a single word, I let him know that his silence is okay with me. It's better for both of us if we get this done quickly. I work swiftly and with as much concentration as I can muster. I make sure not to touch his skin with my fingers even though he doesn't seem to find my proximity stimulating.
Finally, I attach the electrodes to his back and connect the cables.
"You can put your T-shirt back on," I say afterward and can't help but smirk. I never thought I would say something like that to a man in his bedroom.
After he slips on his shirt, he looks down at himself, furrowing his brow. "If I sleep poorly tonight, it's definitely because of this cable mess."
Grinning, I reach for the blood pressure cuff and slide it onto his upper arm. "If anything, it will be because this thing will squeeze your veins every hour," I say, neatly fastening the two ends of the Velcro together. Then I moisten the sensors of the portable EEG with electrode gel, check its function, and place it on his head.
"This will be fun." He tries to smile, but it doesn't quite work. He probably regrets agreeing to this experiment already. But it's clearly too late for that now.
I reach for my notebook, in which I drew a table for recording the measurements earlier this afternoon. "Oh yes, it will. And now, off to bed with you."
"Yes, Doctor," he replies, immediately heading toward the bed. As he snuggles into the sheets, I glide onto the velvety soft fur cushion of the rocking chair,where I will spend the night. With so much distance between us, breathing becomes easier. At the same time, I feel my entire body yearning for the lost closeness to him.
My God, this needs to stop.
"Do you need anything else?" I ask, my voice hoarse.
"No." A hearty yawn escapes his mouth. "Good night."
"Sweet dreams." I resist the urge to join him and reluctantly switch off the light.
It doesn't even take five minutes until I hear his deep breathing. Yet for safety's sake, I wait another half an hour before turning on the flashlight I brought with me.
I position it so that the light doesn't blind him and open my notebook.
11:15 PM - Patient falls asleep without any issues. No noticeable movements, breathing regular, I write down. Then I glance over at him. Since I lack the eye movement measurement device, I have to keep an eye on his eyelids as best as I can.
At least this task will hopefully prevent me from falling asleep. That, and the five cans of energy drink waiting for me in my bag, should keep fatigue at bay.
I squint my eyes in the semi-darkness to make sure I don't miss anything. But his eyelids remain still. Even the muscles of his angular jaw appear relaxed. And his lips...
It doesn't matter. As long as they don't move, they shouldn't interest me.
No REM sleep, I quickly jot down to bring myself back. That's unusual because after falling asleep, thereis usually a short phase of rapid eye movement (REM) sleep before entering deeper sleep stages. Have I already missed it?
Deep in thought, I measure his blood oxygen level and body temperature. I record the measurements in my table as well. It's still too early to attach any significance to the results. Only when I have the analysis of the brainwave measurements from the sleep laboratory in Vienna and the evaluation of the heart activity can I draw conclusions.
With my gaze fixed on Noah, I nestle into the cozy fur cushion. I don't want to miss anything—no movement, no breath holding, no teeth grinding. Every detail could be relevant.
But apart from the fact that he looks even more attractive while asleep than when he's awake, I see nothing. For hours, I struggle against my own fatigue, watching him peacefully slumbering in bed. Yet I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to kiss him.
