An Open Letter to M.D.’s and Neurologists

Within the hours, days, weeks and months since we left your workplace our lives have develop into a tangle of disaster strung collectively right into a 24 hour day. My cherished one desires to go residence and cries and pleads that I take him residence. He stands in his personal front room crying to go residence. The evening time is stuffed with episodes of anger and incontinence and nightmares. His sleep is fitful at finest, barely sleeping. I lie awake in concern. What if he goes outdoors and I do not hear him. What if he thinks I am somebody he’s afraid of? I can not shut my eyes however tomorrow will begin whether or not I’ve closed my eyes or not.

He asks “The place is my spouse?” as I maintain his hand. He asks “Who’re you?” as I twist my marriage ceremony band and my coronary heart is breaking. He was my soldier and I used to be his bride. He fought a conflict however this conflict he won’t win. He was the daddy, the person who knew all the things and taught his kids to be light and sort. Now he’s raging and hitting and we’re afraid. There isn’t a observe up appointment. The phrases have been spoken. There isn’t a street map.

When tomorrow comes and I stroll into your workplace, a special face, a special identify, please keep in mind that I’m the spouse who will reply the query “The place is my spouse” a thousand instances a day. I’m the daughter whose father will look via her as if I’m clear. I’m the son who must take my father’s keys and checkbook to guard him from himself. I’m the one who lives in a world the place up is down and down is up and there’s no observe up appointment. Please assist me perceive.

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