Depuis 29 ans, je partage son lit, sa table, lave et prend soin de son linge. Depuis 7 mois et demi, je le soigne pour qu'il puisse reprendre un peu d'indépendance suite à son encéphalopathie de Wernicke: je l'aide au bain, à s'habiller, je cuisine des bons plats, je réponds à ses questions, je trouve ses choses.
Mais il ne prend pas sa douche et ne change pas son linge pour moi. Non, parce qu'il sort déjeuner avec des anciens collègues de travail, c'est à ce moment-là qu'il prend sa douche et change de vêtements. Pas pour moi. Mais pour eux.
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For 29 years, we have shared a bed, food; I have washed and taken care of his clothes. For the past 7 months and a half, I have cared for him, helped him wash and get dressed, changed his dressings, fed him good food so he could regain a bit of independence after his Wernicke's encephalopathy. I answer his questions, calm his fears, find his stuff.
But he will not shower and change his clothes for me. No. He does it when he goes out with old workmates. But for me? No. For them, yes. But not for me.
Does he really love me?
ReplyDeleteI think he used to.
What Wernicke's encephalopathy left of his brain, I believe, is a person that looks at life through the eyes of a 5 year old: full of wonder and fears, and uncertainties, grasping for control of his environment and his body and his brain. He looks at me as a person who helps make sense of it all, reassurance. Somebody who can do what he no longer is able to.
But love as a man loves a woman. I think not.
If he does, he no longer able to express it, to share those feelings with me. So what am I to do?