I was up at the crack of dark, fighting, pulled hard underneath Ben, who was so awake I'm still blushing hours later, only to be thoroughly loved before being led into the shower along with him where he painstakingly washed my hair while he washed his own, soaped us both down gingerly and then held me under the spray with him until we were warm and renewed again. Then he wrapped me in my robe and put his own and we made the cold rainy trek out to the sauna for a little further warming before starting his physio in the pool at six. His team comes in waves on Tuesdays and Fridays only now and we are capable of filling in the other days. By seven fifteen he was having a well-earned (and also therapeutic) massage and I was back inside drinking coffee, having had a second shower.
Days are long here between care for him and for me and for the wellbeing of every soul here on the point but as I said before Ben's progress is rapid now, with lingering issues that seem so minor but drive him completely mad. He still gets frustrated easily but he is working at it like he works at everything so hard and I feel lucky that he likes having me close virtually all the time now. It's somewhat of a second chance after an easy acknowledgement that in the Before Universe, he honestly was a workaholic who barely had time for himself, let alone a wife with abandonment issues.
(I'm taking notes as self-improvement for him at this point is a necessary sport for him just to regain all of the function he had before, while I resist every last effort to make any progress at all.
The difference between Ben and I? Depression, probably. He is amped as fuck. I just want to hide.)
But what we are doing right now is having a mini honeymoon for three, here, as time and rehabilitation schedules permit. That's the one thing Ben can always manage. A strict, tight schedule. He hasn't touched his phone more than one or twice in the almost-three months now since his accident and he rarely wears his watch but he always knows precisely what time it is and what he needs to be doing. Throw in his daily meetings and he needs all of the hours in each day, though once five hits he is all ours, and we make dinner together, listen to music and then go to bed toddler-early, almost as everyone is worn out by then anyway.
Ben and Lochlan will build a fire in the fireplace upstairs and we talk for a while. Eventually I fall asleep as the drugs are so good right now, whatever it is, and I wake up gasping for air, dreaming of drowning around four, like clockwork, and then we doze for another hour before getting up to do it all again.
So the answer to your question is yes, everyone here is okay.