For the rest of the week, I spent most of my time in the hospital, popping back to the hotel to shower and sleep in rare horizontal luxury.
Mostly I was floaty and dislocated, drifting through an eerie non-space where time had lost its meaning. My entire world: two rooms with beds in them.
Though one of them, at least, was filling up with flowers from well-wishers. As for Beny, he was in a lot of pain and on a lot of drugs, and we had good days and bad days, just like the doctor said we would.
The bad days, when I couldn’t make him laugh or speak to me sometimes, were rough. But, somehow, the good days were even worse because I saw how much they took out of him, and I knew he was doing it for me, and that was…kind of heartbreaking.
And made me feel more helpless than ever. Even if
