“It is normal, we see it all the time in ICU”, the man said. He said it was called Arginine Breathing. I said to myself whatever it was called it was not “normal”. I had heard you breathe for sixteen years, my love, but never like that. He said it was normal under the circumstance. I wished the man would speak English. I will never forget, my love: Your moment of glory, your Swan Song punctuated by Arginine's frightful heaves. I had to do something. I took the man aside and said to him: "an increased dose of Morphine might just sedate my wife". You were just a little agitated, I insisted. I said to him that I had seen you that way before. Of course, I hadn’t. I lied. And for the first time in decades, it felt OK. Did you hear him say it was normal, Tiny? Someday you will let me know if you heard him.