When transferred to another hospital, Mark once asked me to help him get to the toilet. I had to lift the things that the tubes that were coming out of him were connected to. On the way up the long, old corridor, he turned to me and wiggled his damaged right arm at me and made a sound to scare me. I jumped. He started laughing. I was astounded. Did he not understand the extent of his injury? Was he in denial? In hindsight, I now understand that this was acceptance.