I think something I said got through. Saturday night, I lost my temper with him. As our marathon phone call entered its second hour, I snapped: "Do you know you have never once asked me how I am?" He found this sobering. He apologized that night, and then again on Monday. On Tuesday, he called just to see how I am.
Since his life threatening accident and his brain injury, he's been staggeringly self-centered. I understand that it's to be expected, but it's jarring because it's not him. My Henry is sensitive and thoughtful. This Henry has been thin-skinned and self-absorbed.
But, since we argued Saturday night, he's been more thoughtful toward me and has acknowledged -- for the first time -- how difficult this ordeal has been for his husband, Reg. I wish he would say it to Reg and not to me, but this is a start.
I know it's likely one step/two steps back on the road to recovery. It's only been two and a half months and the doctors warned us it could take six months or more.
I appreciate what a privilege it is that Henry turns to me. He is frightened, his world is in turmoil, and he trusts me. I treasure that. But I've also been confused and frightened myself, wondering how to best respond to him and terrified I'll make a mistake and retard his progress.
These last two days have been a joy and a relief.
