The two of us settled[8] into our area and talked softly. We talked about the need to cancel this and that plan, and about how to tell the kids that there was yet another health emergency.
Night turned into day. The ER was now busy with pastel uniforms coming and going.[9] A beige plastic breakfast tray left for hours, more needles, more tests, and specialists and nurses poking here and there.[10] We should have become used to the antiseptic[11] hospital smell by then, but it stayed as a reminder of where we were. No news. So we did what we do best—we chatted, read, held hands and waited.
And then, around two in the afternoon, my partner said: “If I were to die, would you be happier if we had been married—because I would.” I really did not have to think, so I just smiled and said “yes.” And he said, “Would you marry me?” And I said “yes.” What an unusual sight we must have made—seniors looking so happy and laughing loudly in an ER.
Just after four, a new shift arrived and a doctor we had not seen before introduced himself and said: “There is nothing wrong—you have not had a heart attack.” Not knowing whether to be furious with the original misdiagnosis, or grateful with the outcome, we chose grateful.[12] And here we were, engaged: It might have been a death-bed proposal—but we were giddy with our decision.[13]
We settled on a date three weeks away and shopped together for our wedding rings. He chose his white gold band quickly and with glee;[14] I selected mine because it looked so cheerful, so hopeful. He asked what I thought of having both rings engraved[15] with Love, Always.
【潸然泪下,急救室里的求婚】相关文章:
★ 学习方法
最新
2016-10-18
2016-10-11
2016-10-11
2016-10-08
2016-09-30
2016-09-30