The double doors into the operating rooms are about to open. The anaesthetist is wheeling John Cooper down the hall as his wife walks quickly beside the gurney, trying to keep up.
The couple has already said their goodbyes, whispered in the pre-dawn dark of their 23rd-floor hotel room. Cooper has told his two adult daughters that he loves them. They, in turn, have told their dad how proud they are of him.
There are no regrets. And yet this moment still seems to have come too soon.
As the anaesthetist ties on her mask, John and Deb grasp hands one last time. Deb leans down to kiss her husband. They look at each other and say a final “I love you.