Grief, especially when we meet with people from Before. Occasional wry humor at our strange new plight. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wingbeats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. I suspect that one test of great disability literature is how it deals with grief, the sadness that must overwhelm us all when, despite all attempts otherwise, we are forced to acknowledge the truth of our situation.
Many writers fall into the trap of sentiment, or fake hope.
Some, like the late Andre Dubus, pretend there is no sadness, only bitterness. Nancy Mairs, doyen of the East Coast School of Agony Writing, claims no earth-shaking grief, just an uneasy acceptance. Others, like John Callahan, temper woe with a deliciously cruel black humor. Bauby can be bittersweet too. There are no words to express it.