The first thing I feel every morning is pain. Where I was hit still hurts, and it's difficult to look in the mirror. The scars look raw, swollen and red-streaked. I have to walk with a cane, shuffling along slowly. Hutch sometimes has to steady me with a hand to my shoulder, as I often lose my equilibrium. I get real nervous when I'm out in the open, and any loud noise still startles me. I've had good days, bad days, and every other day you can think of. I'm a real mess.
But I have a life. A life I barely was hanging on to not so long ago.
It's difficult for Hutch. I can see it in his eyes, but he won't let on. Just comforts me through it all. He shies away from sharing his feelings. I know he was scared. If reversed, I would have been too.
Not knowing if he would live or die.
Hutch won't talk about anything prior to the time I first opened my eyes, and he danced with that nurse.
He says for him 'that's the only moment that counts.'
Four months later and my partner is still dancing.