I asked. “I’ve been in a hospital bed for a month.”
“From this!” She gestured vaguely at me, at the wheelchair, at the catheter bag hanging by the bed, at the reality of what our life would become. “This isn’t what I signed up for, Mark. I wanted a partner. A husband. I didn’t sign up to be a nurse. It’s not fair to me.”
I gripped the wheels of my chair.continue reading …
