I Married My Dying Patient to Grant Her Final Wish. Two Days After Her Funeral, Her Sister Handed Me a Box That Nearly Destroyed My Career.

Her illness had taken most of her hair and much of her strength, but it had not taken her sense of humor.

One afternoon, I entered her room to discuss her latest blood results. She was watching a nurse arrange her medication.

“Doctor Bennett,” she announced, “I have an important question.”

I pulled a chair closer to her bed.

“All right. What is it?”

“If I get better, can I sue this hospital for emotional damage?”

The nurse burst out laughing.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Emotional damage?”

“Yes. The food is terrible, the television has six channels, and everyone keeps telling me to rest. I’m eighteen, not eighty.”

“You’re also a patient recovering from a serious illness.”

“Exactly. So I deserve better entertainment.”

I tried to remain serious, but she caught me smiling.

“There!” she said triumphantly. “I knew you could smile.”

I shook my head and reviewed her treatment plan.

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