All Chapters of Paralyzed by Malpractice, Betrayed by My Father: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

Anger boiled inside me. I wanted to scream until my lungs gave out. But my body felt like lead. I couldn't move a muscle.The nurse gently patted my mother's hand as she explained the euthanasia procedure. "Over the next three days, we'll gradually reduce her nutritional support. After that, we'll proceed with the euthanasia protocol."It had been three months since someone injected the wrong antibiotic into my bloodstream. Three months since my world came to a standstill.The doctors said I was in a vegetative state. I showed no response to anything around me.Worst of all, the person responsible for my condition was still walking free, thanks to my father's testimony.The door opened.In walked Dr. Alvin Attwood, my father. The man who had helped someone else get away with practically murdering his own daughter."Dr. Attwood, you're here."He came to my bedside and took my hand. These were the same hands that had once stroked my forehead all night when I was sick with a fever

Two days left until my scheduled euthanasia.I'd been secretly practicing moving my body. Every little bit of progress gave me another chance to beat the clock.The door suddenly swung open. It was the middle of the night, and I wasn't expecting any visitors."Well, look who's still hanging in there."I recognized the voice immediately. It was Victor Fletcher, Ben Fletcher's only son and the man responsible for putting me in this condition. This was the first time he'd visited me in three months.He walked up to my bed, his white coat draped casually over his shoulders.He leaned down with a mocking smile. "Heard they're finally putting you out of your misery tomorrow. Figured I'd come say goodbye while I still had the chance."Really, you should be thanking me. What's the point of spending your life in a vegetative state? Better to die sooner rather than later."Maybe you'll have better luck in your next life. Pick a different family, though. You're about to die, and your pare

The sedative began wearing off around 4:00 am. I opened my eyes and looked around.Meredith was asleep, curled up in the visitor's chair in the corner, tear stains still visible on her cheeks.Careful not to wake her, I tried moving my tongue. This time, it did exactly what I wanted.Next, I tried lifting my right hand. It was slow and stiff, but I managed to raise it off the mattress.I spread my fingers, then curled them into a fist. My joints cracked faintly.Three months. 90 days. 2,160 hours. After all that time, I was finally regaining control of my body.Tears welled up in my eyes. I'd been waiting so long for this moment.At six, the nursing aide came in as usual. I closed my eyes and pretended to be unconscious.As she wrung out a washcloth, she muttered, "Today's the day, poor thing. Let's get you cleaned up nice and proper. Hope you have better luck in your next life."Once she left, I went back to practicing. I could now turn my wrist, bend my elbow, and even lift

The wheelchair rolled down the hallway, its wheels whispering against the floor. I sat upright, gripping the armrests.Nolan pushed me at a steady pace, as though he were protecting a crucial piece of evidence.Victor was the first to react. "Stop them! Security! Don't let them get away!"Two security guards hesitantly stepped forward, but Nolan pulled out his phone and showed them the screen. "I'm live right now. Touch either of us and see what happens."The guards stopped and glanced back at Ben.Ben recovered quickly, replacing his shocked expression with a kindly smile.He stepped forward, his voice so gentle it made my stomach turn. "Cassie, I'm so glad you're awake. We've been worried sick about you these past three months. Now that you're showing signs of recovery, we'll get you a full examination right away."I cut him off. "Mr. Fletcher, do you remember Leonard Whitcomb?"His smile froze.I kept going. "23 years ago. He was 42 and undergoing surgery for stomach cancer