When
Most days, he’s still pretty happy. He is playful and quite the prankster. He is easy to giggle and tries to flirt at every opportunity. Similar to the little boy in class, pulling your ponytail for attention. He is becoming extremely difficult to converse with, as his sentences are the textbook, word-salad. He speaks in such a manner that the question is indecipherable. Frustration is raging as we navigate to my finally understanding. But, with my clarity comes his victory because he knows his question was valid and the confusion was mine. He is happy once more. Until his mind wonders “when”? When do I get my drivers license back? **Never When will I be normal again? **Never When will I get to work again? **Never When will I get to stop taking these meds? **Never When will they give me my brain back? ………! The “when’s” create angst and despair for him. Almost attached to his subconscious knowledge of the silent “never’s"...