At Just 31 Simon would never walk again. He felt pathetic almost, like a waste of space. Simon’s life had been flipped upside down. Having gone from a lieutenant in the SAS to a man who relied on his wife to get out of bed.

Truth me told he didn’t understand why you still wanted to be with him. You both loved each other immensely but he just seen himself holding you back now. That he’d just be trailing behind in a wheelchair slowling you down.

The first days after the explosion were spent either high or in excruciating pain. No in between. When the time came that he could go back to England a small part of him dreaded the look on your face. Seeing your once so active and strong husband now paralysed.

Financially things were okay. You worked full time and it wasn’t as though Simon wasn’t receiving money. Of course, you were better off before, but there hadn’t been any stress added on that behalf.

Whilst you worked you’d leave everything he needed out for easy access— mostly food and drinks for the day. And conveniently you had a downstairs lavatory which Simon had the upper body strength to transfer himself onto.

Simon hated this though, he was a man. He was supposed to help, to be a protecter. And yet now he needed help with the once so easy task of showering or getting dressed.