I brought Ben his phone today, let him make a couple of quick calls and send a couple emails off and then he passed it back. It hurts his eyes, he said.
You're probably just allergic to work now, I pointed out and he laughed.
He asked for his favourite guitar but we vetoed that, as not only is it not appropriate in a quiet hospital wing, private room or not, but he can look forward to playing when he gets home.
He agreed. He's been very agreeable. He goes with whatever we say, whatever is decided and he just motors through milestones and progress markers and keeps stable and steady and he sleeps a fair bit and while he's not high now from pain meds he was a few days ago and I worry about what that means for his recovery but he said we'll take it one step at a time and I laughed because the irony and he didn't but he smiled.
We're all just thrilled that his brain is no longer leaking out of his nose.
***
Masks are now my new all-time favourite accessory (don't worry, I've been wearing them for months), as I have one of those faces that not only can't make a poker face but I perpetually look as if I'm about to burst into tears when I'm not actively smiling. I always said my superpowers, if I could have them would be hiding my true feelings instead of broadcasting them with my eyes, and writing my name with pee in the snow, but that's not really relevant right here, it's just something I would like to be able to do. If I can refrain from raising my eyebrows I look completely normal and like I believe what you're telling me.
***
Caleb has sought redemption quietly. He's hung back. He's facilitated the contractors coming in and doing a general sizing up and adding all sorts of accessibility to the house that brings a physical ease where before the house was accessible only in terms of hearing. The lights flicker when the doorbell rings or the gate intercom buzzes, plus there is a small light attached to the inside of each door which lights up really bright if you knock on the outside. Our smoke alarms are these super piercing rave/strobe lights and I have a flashing-light alarm clock that wakes me up. They lowered the ceiling heights on the main floor to nine feet from vaulted to help with the echoing and there are lots of other tiny touches like water alarms in case water is left on from a tap and I don't hear it and we have hard wood on all floors downstairs so that I can hear you coming.
They're putting in an elevator from the studio to the main level. As I said the other day we're adding railings and grab bars wherever we can. They've opted to put in higher toilets because it's easier to sit on them when you're tall and the tall people in this house outnumber the short (uh, me. Even Ruth is tall and willowy). They're adding non-slip tiles in the kitchen, foyer, garage and bathrooms, the front steps are being retrofitted to be nonslip. We're just going to bubblewrap everything we never did before, ironic again because when we moved in with a nine year old and an eleven year old we didn't have this much safety in mind, choosing instead to teach the kids to watch out for hazards than to assume they would be safe.
Ben will not need most of these additions but they're never a bad thing, and with Emmett doing the work I know it will blend in seamlessly with the design of the house. And I made sure it's going to cost Caleb a blooming fortune. He may not even be living here once Ben comes home, though he has played advocate to himself and has pointed out that if Lochlan had hauled off and punched someone who then suffered a TBI I would not make him leave.
He's not wrong but they really have to stop using their fists to try and fix their bruised egos (and brains).