Ben still has not ventured into his studio downstairs, a place he rarely left before the accident (life is now before and after again but newer tragedies require newer delineations). He is mildly fearful and visibly hesitant sometimes, especially near the end of the day. In the mornings he wakes up almost-Ben. He has near-constant headaches, cannot walk at his usual pace for unsteadiness and dizziness, and he is easily overwhelmed.
He is slow to answer a direct question, needing more time to process. He briefly forgot my name the first day he spent fully awake but not who I was to him. He stumbled over trying to call me Beatrice, eventually when he was looking for the word Bumblebee, then he snapped when corrected to remind him my name is Bridget.
I know that, I was looking for what I call you.
He couldn't remember stupid shit like skiing in the rockies or dancing on tables but he knew how much was in his chequing account and when the kids' birthdays are. It's coming back in pieces, by degree. He can't parse the steps necessary to make his famous ice cream and can no longer swim (doesn't want to, I mean, and doesn't like the pool suddenly anyways. Which sucks because he's going to be doing some of his physical rehab in it.)
He can brush his teeth, type out emails (albeit slower than before) and make love (very much slower than before and not looking forward to that changing back if it does. HA). He knows what clothes are in his closet and what he wants to wear and it's appropriate for the forecast but he needs a little help with buttons. He is not going to be driving anytime soon. He can't write down a dictated phone number because it's too fast, say it again and he still gets sidetracked and frustrated so quickly.
He shakes when he's tired, which is virtually all of the time. He is getting up at ten or eleven and going to bed at seven.
Days are long but short but long.
It's going to take a long time. Most of his days are spent resting and the rest will just take time. We are learning how to help him with his physical rehabilitation and with his emotional fallouts where he is angry far too fast and inappropriately or when he is despondent and feels dark and hopeless. We're working with him on managing pain medication in order to wean him off it without seeing him suffer. He doesn't want to take it. His headaches remind him he has to.
So yes, we were lucky. He is lucky. He got hurt in just the right way that he isn't permanently destroyed but it will be weeks or months or maybe never that he is Ben 1.0 again. Ben 2.0 is a little more of a handful but like I said they let us bring him home because we have the resources and the manpower to care for Ben more impressively (around the clock) even than the wonderful staff at the hospital who put up with all of our shit for weeks and never once acted surprised at any of it.
We are caring for him every moment of every day and night. He cares for us right back. I wanted to be back in his arms and I am and there isn't any other favour I will ever ask for again from God. I got a very big one granted and I wouldn't dare try my luck again. I daresay neither will anyone else.