A poignant photograph of an elderly Chinese couple, married for nearly seventy years, has captured hearts worldwide. The image shows them holding hands in the intensive care unit, evoking deep emotions among millions.
The touching moment was shared by Wang Yanfang, the head nurse at the intensive care unit of Yinzhou Hospital in Zhejiang Province, eastern China.
Feng Ming, 92, was admitted to the ICU due to heart failure. Unfortunately, his health worsened, leading to multiple organ failures and a lung infection. He became unable to communicate and was placed on life support.
Understanding that time was running out, his family decided to discontinue treatment and bring him home. However, Feng had one last wish: to see his beloved wife, Zhang Ping, who is 95 years old and recovering from a fractured femur in a different part of the hospital.
Wang, the head nurse, explained: “Typically, visiting hours in the ICU are from 3:00 PM to 3:30 PM, but given Feng’s critical condition, we couldn’t wait”. She arranged for the couple to meet, fearing it could be their final goodbye.
With Wang’s assistance, Zhang was transported on a stretcher from the 14th floor to the ICU on the third floor. When they finally reunited, Zhang took Feng’s hand and reassured him in their native dialect, saying: “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself”.
Feng was moved to tears by her words and, just hours later, he passed away peacefully at home. Reflecting on the emotional encounter, Wang expressed her gratitude for being able to facilitate this last meeting, emphasizing its significance.
This heart-wrenching story serves as a reminder of the enduring love that Feng and Zhang shared through their many years together, exemplifying true love even in their final moments.
I Decided to Teach My Stepson a Lesson When I Got Tired of Him Littering Everywhere
A couple of weeks ago, I finally moved in with my husband, which was supposed to be the beginning of a wonderful chapter in our lives. I had no idea that my husband’s 15-year-old son from a previous marriage, named Dave, would prove to be a difficult obstacle to overcome. Though I knew there would be some period of adaptation, I did not expect such an attitude towards my efforts to make the house our cozy place in the form of piles of garbage that Dave, as if on purpose, left scattered throughout the house.
At first, I thought it was a temporary situation, perhaps a teenager’s version of chaos. But days turned into weeks, and the mess only seemed to grow. Empty chip bags, crumpled papers, and discarded clothes adorned every corner of our once-pristine home. It was as if a tornado of teenage negligence had swept through, leaving behind a debris field that would shock even a loving mother.
My comments and requests for cleanliness had no effect on him at all. It was like talking to a wall. I wanted to stop this and somehow decided to act outside the box.
One day, when Dave left for school, I came up with a plan. I was going to defeat this trash invasion, which required a strategy that went beyond mere words. Wandering around the house, armed with trash bags and determination, I picked up every piece of clutter that had settled into our home. I was on a mission to teach Dave a lesson in responsibility.
His room, the center of chaos, was my first target. When I walked in, I was greeted by clothes strewn across the floor, a maze of crumpled papers, and a collection of half-empty soda cans. Without pleasure, but with a feeling of determination, I began to put all the items that were scattered in garbage bags. Papers, cans, his clothes, everything was packed into the bags together. In the end, the room gradually turned from a disaster zone into something resembling order. I packed all the scattered clothes with other trash in a bags.
A similar fate befell the living room, kitchen, and even the bathroom. It was a time-consuming task, but I was sure that if words could not reach him, perhaps these bags would show him how much of a mess he left behind.
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