This chapter really took me back. The frustration , the anger, the doubt , the constant strength needed not to breakdown or freak out. Knowing every minute for two and a half years he had his own demons to deal with. We moved downstairs , closed the upper two floors, I only used them to escape , fleeing to the roof terrace to blast Siouxsie and the Banshees whilst my frustration erupted as regularly and violently as Old Faithful. Dealing with his feelings of emasculation were probably the worst , we hardly touched in all that time. I arranged for platoons of medical persnal and turned our house into a rehab boot camp . On good days he'd call me the ' effing Nazi Bitch' , on bad ones , much worse. Funny though , through it all neither of us ever thought to walk or wheel away. Now... he walks , he gyms , he's even back on the bikes on the bloody track . I made him read this chapter , we cried, held one another and realized , its sometimes good to just remember. Louis and Don are doing really well , all things considered . An excellent and thought provoking chapter. Thanks.