The practical considerations are not my responsibility any more- he has taken all that and reduced me to my most basic, primal self. I am sitting across his lap, straddling him, and I use the excuse of standing up to grind against him- just once."Ah-" he cautions, the same sound we use with our dogs, who are out in the kennel tonight, as if I am an animal incapable of language. I nearly am. Sensation is far more important than thought at this point, but his disapproval is clear and I subside.He stands up, and we walk into the house and up the stairs to our master bedroom together. The bedroom my husband and I share. The lights are not turned on, but the room is not completely dark. Silvery light comes from the windows on the outer wall and illuminates the bed, covers neatly folded at the foot, one of my duties this afternoon."Go lay down," he says, "On your stomach." I KNOW he is going to draw this out, and I am ready NOW- but I obey, propping my head on my crossed arms and looking. They needed the swelling and bruising to go down before he could say what the extent of his injuries, if any, will be."Will he recover completely?" "Will he be brain damaged?" I had so many questions I needed answered. I knew only time would tell. He was on a life support machine. I sat with Dave; I kissed him he didn't even blink. I cried sobbing into his chest, it all seemed like a bad dream, and that every thing would be back to normal very soon.The nurse came and comforted me. She told me to "go home and get some rest you will need all your strength to help Dave get through this", I knew there was nothing I could do, and the children needed me at home. I gave Dave a kiss and said, "See you tomorrow babe." The thought of going home with out him made me physically sick.When I got home, I knew the children would be waiting up. Soon as I walked through the door Kim came running up to me "Where's daddy mum?" she asked.I sat them both down and explained what had happened, Chad said,.
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