I was lying in a bed in the emergency ward of Boston Medical Center. My hospital johnnie was bunched up beneath my back and my throat was raw. This is what happens when you choke on a one-carat cushion cut solitaire in a platinum setting and then instead of spitting it up, you swallow it.

“What does that mean?” Jeremy asked. “Is she going to be all right? No permanent harm?”

To his credit, he seemed more concerned about me than he was the engagement ring.

Dr. Curtis was a tall man, very thin, with a shiny dome for a head and glasses that perpetually slipped down his nose. He pushed them back up and smiled at me. He had a gentle smile that made me feel cared for, which helped exponentially, given the current ambiance of the woman in the bed on the other side of the curtain who kept moaning and the random profane shouts of some guy down the hall who sounded like he was being waterboarded.

“I suggest a high-fiber diet, some prune juice, and patience,” he said. He unclipped a picture from the front of his board and handed it to me. It was a print copy of the X-ray. I glanced at it. Sure enough, there was a diamond ring in my belly.

“If I make myself throw up, will that dislodge it?” I asked.

“No, don’t do that,” Dr. Curtis said. “It could damage your esophagus on the way back up, and trust me, you don’t want that.”

“So she’ll have to—” Jeremy began but stopped as if he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Poop it out,” I said. I figured I’d best be blunt so we were all on the same page. “Once it has, um, reappeared, I’ll get it cleaned and get it back to you.”

I glanced away from Jeremy. While a part of me felt that I had every right to be annoyed that he’d put the ring in my drink—who does that?!—another part of me was well aware that I was rejecting his proposal in front of an emergency room doctor, as if I needed a witness, and his feelings were likely going to smart a bit. Okay, more than a bit.

“Yes, well.” Dr. Curtis started edging away from the bed as if he didn’t want to be present when I crushed Jeremy’s plans under my bootheel once and for all. “If you have any questions or complications, be sure to follow up with your personal doctor.”

“I will,” I said. “Thank you.”

He shook Jeremy’s hand and then patted my arm in a gesture of sympathy. I wasn’t sure if it was for what was to come with Jeremy or my upcoming colon cleanse, but I appreciated the kindness either way.