After another 4 weeks, a nurse came in with a tape measure and a putty looking substance. She measured the circumference of my mostly heal leg and asked how tall I was before the surgery. Then, took the putty and folded it around the nub of my leg until it dried.
"What's all this for?" I asked.
"For your new prosthetic, we want to make it perfect," said the nurse.
The last four weeks have been absolutely miserable. I haven't been able to live or walk on my own without a nurse by my side.
I'm sick of it.
Once I gathered up the courage to say so, I took a deep breath and went for it.
"Can I take a walk?" I asked the nurse.
"What for?" she asked.
"Haven't you noticed I've been bedridden for four weeks!?" I shouted.
"Oh, I'm sorry," said the nurse quietly, "I guess you could, just take the wheelchair."
I hopped out of bed, and hobbled out bed with one leg to the wheelchair. I plopped down on the polyester, black seat and pushed my way out the door.
"Don't go too far!" yelled the nurse as I was already down the hallway.
YOU ARE READING
Amputee
Teen FictionGinger Steele's two favorite things are the woods in her backyard and snow. But one day, while walking in the woods on a snowy day, an old tree falls on her right leg. When Ginger gets to the hospital, the doctors tell her that they have to amputat...
