More Than Cheese

Let’s be honest, the subject matter of my posts so far has not been particularly upbeat. For many, I’ve been told, reading them has been very difficult. Emotions are triggered when we read about or remember traumatic events from our past. I had to throw away a face moisturiser the other day. It was the one that was helpfully bought for me while I was in hospital. It was a high quality product and it worked really well as a moisturiser. But, it had to go, because every time I smell it now, bad memories come flooding back.

We can do that with some stuff that triggers bad memories. But unfortunately, some things we can’t just throw away, so we have to learn to cope with the emotions that accompany them. I still feel slightly sick when I hear the sirens of an ambulance. I don’t know if that will ever go away, but, I can tell you that it is getting better.

As I wrote in my first post, I have so many good memories from last year. So today’s post is all about my favourite one. I think, if you’ve committed to coming on this journey with me, you’ve earned a treat. Something to make you smile. One year ago today, I asked Miriam Louise Hope to marry me. I still don’t know quite how it happened or whether Mim fully understands what she has signed up for, but, She said YES! So, for your reading pleasure, here is the story of the first ever marriage proposal in Frimley Park Hospital’s Coronary Care Unit.

Mim had woken up that morning with a clear sense that it was time to give me the ‘I love you more than cheese!’ card. A postcard that she had purchased many years ago. Before she had even met me. The hope was that one day she would meet someone she could give it to. Someone she could say she loved more than cheese. Now’s probably a good time to tell you, if you hadn’t guessed already – Mim. Really. Loves. Cheese.

My day had not begun in such an exciting way. Well, I had woken up excited. I’d ordered a cooked breakfast. However, that feeling drained away rapidly as I noticed the dreaded ‘Nil By Mouth’ sign above my bed. Its presence meant that the breakfast lady would just walk right on past my bed, because I was going for a procedure that required me to have an empty stomach. The procedure was an angiogram to check my arteries. But that’s all I’ll say about that, because this is a post about good memories, and that angiogram, was the exact opposite. My arteries were clear though. That was good news.

Exactly what Mim wrote on the postcard will stay between us, but she had decided that I was the person she loved more than cheese. I was the one she bought that postcard for all those years before. When she came to visit me later that day, she gave me the card. I read it, I probably cried and I definitely told her that I loved her more than cheese too.

Now this seems like an appropriate time to mention some more wonderful friends who were a great support throughout the whole experience. Firstly, the Booth family. Truly amazing people who care for others beyond what seems possible. They live round the corner from the hospital and gave Mim a key to their house, so she had a bed to sleep in whenever she needed it. We are truly grateful for that. Another incredible support to Mim during that first week were the Cooper family, Sarah in particular. She made an extra portion of food every night and told Mim that she was welcome to join them for dinner any time.

That evening, when my Mum arrived, Mim took a break and went to the Coopers for dinner. While she was away I said to my Mum, “Mum, I think I’m going to ask Mim to marry me when all this is over. To which, in her motherly wisdom, she replied, “Maybe you should just ask her now”. I thought that was a good idea, but didn’t have a ring and shopping wasn’t really an option. So Mum let me borrow her ring, which I hid in my earplugs case. I also sent a message to Mim’s Mum and Dad asking for their permission to ask Mim to marry me. It may seem old-fashioned, but old-fashioned doesn’t necessarily mean something isn’t worth doing. They said, “YES absolutely!”

Later that evening, Mim returned and, as she did every night, helped me with my bedtime routine. She handed me a facewipe to freshen up and immediately noticed that my earplugs were missing. I had hidden them under a flannel on my bedside cabinet to hide the ring. But, because Mim is so unbelievably organised and observant, especially when helping others, the earplugs being out of place was spotted in a flash. Then followed a conversation, in which I told Mim that I knew exactly where the earplugs were and she became more and more confused as to why I wouldn’t just tell her where they were! I eventually convinced her to not worry about them and give me my toothbrush. Actually, she eventually decided that I was just being weird because I was so ill.

Face freshened, teeth cleaned and I was ready for bed. I asked Mim to draw the curtains around my bed and finally told her what she’d been waiting for all this time… the location of the earplugs. I took her by the hand and told her that I wanted to spend a lifetime full of adventures with her. I said some other mushy stuff too, but again, that will stay between us. I asked her to marry me. She said yes. She cried. I cried. Then all my monitor alarms went off, swiftly followed by the nurse charging in through the curtains to see why my heartrate was off the charts. She had a look of panic on her face as she asked, “Peter, is everything ok?!”

Mim assured her that we were ok and that they were happy tears. She told her that I’d just proposed and she’d said yes. The nurse was overjoyed. She congratulated us, took a few pictures for us and then told me to calm down. She even wrote our news in the handover book so when all the staff started in morning they came and congratulated us.

I don’t know if I have words to describe how exceptional those staff were. For privacy reasons I won’t be naming any of them, but maybe this will find its way to them one day. If it does, I would like all the staff of that Coronary Care Unit to know how much we appreciated their hard work. *Spoiler alert* One of them even came to see me once I’d been moved to St Georges. They were there for some training, found where I was and popped in to say hello. Incredible!

I continued to cry for quite a long time after that. I hadn’t really cried until that point, so it was a moment for me to release the emotions that had been building over the last week. The simple fact of the matter was this – I was scared. I’m sorry for bringing the celebration mood down right at the end, but, that was the reality. However, although that feeling of fear was very real, there was a greater reality at play. I’ll leave you with an extract from Mim’s diary. She wrote it at the end of that day. I think she sums up that greater reality perfectly.

“In amongst the emotions, I remember that Pete said he was scared & got to let out the emotion of all that was happening. And I told him that being scared (I am too) doesn’t mean that we’re not trusting God, but we are in this together, and whatever happens, we will get through this together, with God.”