Inseparable

I noticed her warm smile right away as I walked into the room. The laugh lines crinkling the edge of her eyes told the story of a life well lived. Her 90 plus years seemed to rest lightly on the shoulders of her elegant and understated outfit. She was seated with her feet up on the chair in front of her; the relaxed demeanor unusual for the Emergency department in a hospital where we met. I was there to admit, who I assumed was, her husband lying on the gurney in the narrow room. He was a tall man with the ravages of age and disease apparent on his face. We made small talk until we arrived at the reason behind why they were here. I bent down to examine him. "He used to the captain of his football team in college" she suddenly burst out with an endearing look at him. I smiled politely, trying to imagine the emaciated, frail man in front of me in a linebacker's uniform. "His wife had been my sorority sister, you know," she continued. Wait a minute, I thought she was his wife. Her comfortable body language, her intimate knowledge of his recent medical history, the request to spend the night at his bedside at the hospital...I was at a loss for words. "Both our spouses passed away within a month of each other," she clarified. "We had always known each other over all those years. His wife and I, we always kept in touch on the phone. She had a weak heart. He was her caretaker in the last years at the same time that I was the caregiver for my husband who suffered from Alzheimer's. My husband passed away when I was 80 and then 3 months later I found out that Betty had been gone around the same time. I called to offer condolences but we ended up spending hours talking on the phone, like a couple of teenagers," she giggled. "I thought we were being too bold but he asked me to meet him for lunch the next day. We have been inseparable ever since. We have been married six years now." "And living together in sin for six years before that," her 92 year old husband chimed in with a smile. A loving look passed between them that spoke of happiness refound and treasured. She asked me again "Would you please make sure that I can stay with him here?"



As a physician, I often deal with sick patients, at their most vulnerable, and sometimes going through the worst situation in their lives. I often find myself privy to intimate details- stories of despair, anguish, of learning to cope, of finding peace. It is rare though that I get to hear a love story. And for that privilege, I am grateful.