Amputee Fiction Stories Novels & Stories

Now that Amanda had brought it up again, I thought about dying. Don't judge me. I have spent fourteen years with no memory of my childhood and a paralyzed body. Every month it's one complication or the other. Since I refused medical attention, I'm either fainting or having speech problems. Life hasn't been easy since I got into an accident that damaged my brain. I refused to leave the hospital, which had become my home since the accident. What's the point of living if half your body is paralyzed?

If she was honest, Alexandra had to admit that what had kept her going all along was the hope of walking again. But she also knew that even greater courage belonged to all those who, knowing they would never walk again, still managed to push forward from their chairs. So, from that moment on, Diamond Fast opened a special research division run by and for people with disabilities, designing and building all kinds of useful items for them—from wheelchairs to cars they could drive with only their hands—giving them greater independence and autonomy.

Dismas General Hospital, ICU Waiting Room The teenager was in surgery to have her leg amputated. His partner, Randy, had gone back to the office to take care of the paperwork. The Major had called three times before Curtis had shut off his phone. An untouched now cold cup of coffee sat on a table next to Curtis. An unread Sports Illustrated sat open on his lap, celebratory Chicago White Sox players on the cover. He’d seen amputations before. On the battlefield. He still heard the screams. Charley’s were the loudest in his memory.

Turned out, Amber's fingers had turned red. "Gosh! Why is it like this?” Sobbing, the woman stared at the shovel lying on the snow. "I'm too tired to lift the shovel. So, I used my hands. I didn't know my fingers could be like this." "Stupid! You have frostbite," Adam said without thinking. Hearing the diagnosis, Amber's cries suddenly stopped. "Then, should my hand be amputated?" “I don’t know. Let’s pray that my treatment works. Come in!"

I remember seeing a nurse attend to her amputated leg that night. Well the next day, he ordered that the other one be cut off. And the following day, another part of her body was cut off. That was how he tore her limb by limb till there was nothing of her remaining. Then, she had no hands and legs and mouth and ears; they pushed her out of the pack into the wild. I shuddered thinking of it. I always knew the alpha was up to something when she was being treated. After she died, I found myself lonely. The nurses in the infirmary rarely spoke to me. They were afraid that any wrong move would get them in the same condition as Amelia.

“Is it really that bad?” Her question, even though redundant, is understandable. In my worst nightmares, I could not have imagined the severity of a war situation. I never had the experience of needing to stitch up a two-month-old baby who received shrapnel wounds to the face and arm. Or a woman who had already been admitted with a broken arm and this time had her leg amputated. “It's much worse than I imagined. I woke up frightened by a bombing and victims arriving,” I tell her the truth.

“So it has been all games… She should have known earlier. All she inwardly prayed for was another chance. Her leg and everything were lost, but she pleaded with so much pain to be given another chance. They had to pay. They had to give her what she had lost, but time was proving stubborn and not on her side. “Stop thinking too much. You would have recovered from the accident, but how could I give Edward the chance to look at you like a real woman for once? I mean, no one will want to make love to a cripple, you know? Even if you get pregnant through IVF, how do you plan on going through 9 months of fetus growth? The servants won't be around all the time, and as a real woman, you should be ab

It was a sight of raw, physical trauma. Snow had spent the last hour dreaming of finally becoming Liam’s woman, but she had completely pushed the reality of his amputation to the back of her mind. When the stump suddenly lunged into her field of vision, she couldn't suppress her base human instinct. She let out a sharp, audible gasp, her pupils dilating as she recoiled in visible shock.

I didn’t murder Blaine. “There is something you need to know. They had to amputate one of his arms. Apparently when he was trying to defend himself, your wolf bit it almost in two. We believe that’s what caused most of the bleeding. He’s also difficult to recognize. There were deep gashes on his face. One narrowly missed his eye.” Dad sighs. “I guess I need to check on him.” Now I feel sick. Having to face someone I’ve permanently maimed is almost as bad as killing soemone. I guess I should be grateful that he’s alive.