"I wish blood would squirt out of my eyes"

"I wish blood would squirt out of my eyes", he says. "That way people would know that I can't talk or think or do this right now". I don't know what it means when he says "My brain hurts". My brain has never hurt before....I have never felt my brain before. I've also never felt my spleen before and he felt his during one (or maybe all) of the IED blasts. He felt all his organs during the blasts.

These are the things that make caregiving very touchy. Obviously I don't want to cause him pain and when I don't understand something I ask a question which then causes the pain I'm trying to avoid causing but I didn't know that a question would cause the pain until after I asked it and now it's too late. The part I get is the grouchy (in pain) bark of a response which puts me on edge. I realize that I'm on edge a lot and I don't think there is really anything to do about it. I don't blame him for me being on edge, if I was in pain all the time I can guarantee you that I'd be snapping at everyone! I just can't really help it that I've been jumpy and on edge when barked at since I was a kid.

We went to the beach for a four nights/five days. Sounds like a lot but it's the minimum really for Dean to get any pleasure from the trip. On the day we are leaving he has 3 panic attacks while packing because the stress is overwhelming. He says he's so glad to be going and will be so glad when it's over. He has always loved the beach, it's where we got married, we both have a special love for the ocean's beauty & power. The day of travel is exhausting for him. It takes at least the entire next 24 hours to recoup from it. Then he basically can do one "outing" each day. That means he can leave the hotel room to be in public for one hour each day and after that, he's exhausted. Sitting on the beach not around the public he can do for a few hours but eventually it's the sun that gets to him (light and heat become too much). So when we get to the beach on Saturday evening, he can't leave until Sunday evening. Then he joins us for an outing Sunday night, sat on a beach chair for a couple hours on Monday, a quick outing on Tuesday, and we left on Wednesday morning. The entire trip back on Wednesday is exhausting causing panic and exhaustion. Once home he'll be sleeping and recouping for a few days (I hope that's all it takes). He loves it and he hates it but we must do it because he loves it.

We are back home now starting the recoup process. He's taken his first and second migraine meds, he's been drenched in sweat, he's had his choking fit at dinner, and now he's out to smoke a cigar. I can see and feel that he wishes he could just climb out of his skin for a while and float around as a body-less spirit. I wish I could grant him that wish.