Today when I got home from work my husband was on the verge of a breakdown. His mother was here taking care of JY. He beckoned me to our room and asked me to shut the door, and he started to cry.
He said he couldn't do it anymore. They did three hours of PT today, and wearing ALL of their PT gear layered on top of each other--their shirts and shorts underneath a thick sweatshirt and sweat pants. It was ninety degrees outside! He almost fell out of a run. He failed both attempts at the obstacle course. He thinks himself a disgrace to his department.
He was in pain all over his body. He showed me countless bruises going all up his arms and clustered over his knees. He had six or seven massive popping blisters on his palms. He said he also thinks he pulled a muscle in his left leg. He said he felt hopeless, that he would never learn to climb the thirty-foot rope or scale the six-foot wall. They were yelling at him: "Oh,
come on! Your partner is down, he's bleeding to death on the other side of that wall and
where are you?"
I rubbed some Neosporin into his blisters and scrapes. Then I went out and bought him some Epsom salts for a bath and some fast food burgers. He was craving comfort food. He's gotten so thin; he now weighs 158 lbs--that's a twenty-pound drop from what he weighed a month or so ago.
I stroked his fuzzy hair and told him it would be all right, that he'll get it with practice. He thinks he doesn't have enough upper-body strength. That he's just not cut out for this. That may be, but it's my understanding that most of those challenges are more in the technique than the brute strength. I know he can do it.
If you're reading this, honey, I know you can do it. You're my hero...
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