Lou called me yesterday to tell me that Richard was in intensive care at Georgetown University Hospital. He was admitted Sunday– unconscious and hemmoraging from his mouth. Alcoholism. I called the hospital this morning and the nurse said that the bleeding had stopped– although a tube had been inserted into his stomach to provide drainage.
Tonight he called to say that Richard’s condition has taken a bad turn. I sit cross-legged on my bed with inane television yammering– watching the phone. Wondering if I am about to get a call saying that Richard is dead. My lover dead. Hunched over with a sprained back from exercising and a case of flu that I woke up with today. The time has come to summon my Lillian Hellman personality to take over. Art did not call me and Wendy is staying in New York tonight.