The Old Man, his Wife and the Doctor

I am a doctor working at a little clinic. At about 8:15am on a Tuesday morning, an old man in his 80's walked into my clinic to get out some stitches he received a few days before.

It was a very busy morning, and I asked him to please sit and wait. He told me he was in a rush, as he had a very important engagement at 9am he couldn't miss.  As he sat there,  I couldn't help noticing that he kept checking his watch. I decided to treat him since the doctor in charge was extremely busy, and I knew it would take at least an hour until he could see him.


I took off his bandages and saw that the wound was healing nicely. While I was gently pulling out the stitches, I asked him where he was off to that was more important than taking out stitches.  Was it also with a doctor?

"No," said the old man, "not a doctor. I am going to have breakfast with my wife, who is in the hospital."

"Why was she hospitalized, if I may ask?"
"She's been there for a few years now," he answered. "She has Alzheimer's and needs constant care."
As I finished taking out the stitches, I asked the man if his wife would be worried if he were late to their breakfast.
"No," he said quietly, "and she never will. She hadn't recognized me in over five years."

I was astounded by this and just had to ask: "And you go to her every morning, although she doesn't know who you are?"

The man smiled, put his hand on mine and said: "She may not know who I am, but I know who she is, and I remember for both of us."  And he shook my hand, thanked me and left me standing there, my body shaking with sudden emotion.