Still, she proposed adding regular sessions with a rehabilitation psychologist rather than waiting for a crisis.
Noah resisted for two minutes.
Then agreed.
“Not because you are failing,” she said. “Because brain injury changes mood regulation, identity, independence, and relationships. You deserve a place to work on those changes that does not depend entirely on Reid.”
He looked at me.
“That sounds fair.”
“It is.”
She reviewed his physical progress.
Walking tolerance increased.
Shoulder strength improving.
Headaches trending downward despite fluctuations.
Cognitive stamina better than the previous month.
The next MRI and CT were scheduled for the following week, near the three-month mark.
“If the scans are stable,” she said, “we can move from weekly appointments to every other week.”
Noah blinked.
“You want to see me less?”
“I want you to need me less.”
“That is unusually cold.”
“It is a milestone.”
He smiled.
She approved limited intercourse with the same conditions already established: avoid strain on the right hip and left shoulder, stop at pain or neurological symptoms, protect against falls, use sufficient preparation, and keep communication explicit.
Noah’s cheeks burned.
“Maeve already gave me positions.”
“I know.”
“You people talk too much.”
“We coordinate care.”
He looked toward me.
“This is your fault.”
“I was not on that call.”
At the end of the appointment, Dr. Whitcomb refused his request for regular coffee.
