Amputee Fiction Stories Novels & Stories

Luciano's POV The smell of disinfectant filled my nose. I forced my eyes open and met the doctor's grave expression. "Mr. Damiani, your legs were severely crushed in the car accident. To save your life, we had no choice but to perform an amputation…" Amputation? My legs… were gone? I lay there on the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The phantom pain from my lower body—pain from something that no longer existed—was vivid, gnawing at me in waves.

he fidgets with our intertwined fingers, and I realize I have never seen him this worried—so anxious—whatever he’s about to tell me, it’s something that’s breaking him apart from the inside. I scoot closer and urge him on. “What is it?” He takes another deep breath, his eyes locking with mine as if seeking strength. “The explosion damaged my knee. I don’t think I’ll ever walk again. Not like a normal person at least. And even if I do manage to get up on my feet, it will only be with the help of a cane or something, but that’s also if I manage to survive the wheelchair. A cane is the best progress I can make and let’s not bullshit ourselves, it might take years for even that to happen.”

“I’m here for a different reason. When it’s time for me to do my work as a chiropractic physician, it’s already too late. I see the pain and trauma—the aftereffects of losing a limb. And not just a year down the line. Five, ten, thirty years later. An amputation affects the entire body and may lead to skin infections, deep vein thrombosis, muscle contractures, a damaged spine, and arthritic joints. And in children…” Gage spotted her trembling hand—the kids affected her. It affected him as well. Seeing their brave coping abilities daily as their tiny bodies adjusted to dramatic change—heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. Gage’s attention switched between Chantal’s distress and her di

Everything started going wrong since that night. I was here, thrown into this filthy, stinking hell. And I couldn't even kill that idiot Alexander. I shot him, and before I could pull the trigger the second time, I got hit in the leg. At the hospital, the doctor explained that the bullet fragmented and destroyed the nerve endings and blood vessels in the area. Reconstruction would be impossible, so they amputated my entire leg, almost at the groin - making it impossible to fit a prosthetic. So I depended on these damn crutches to walk. After they cut off my leg, they transferred me from the hospital to the infirmary of this horrific prison. As soon as I was a bit better, they threw me into t

But he had faith in me. Tony was surprised that my leg muscles were so strong for an amputee. “Usually, muscles waste away with time. Did this happen recently?” He asked me before questioning whether I had a prosthetic. I didn’t know the answer to his question. “I don’t think it happened recently, as I am not in any pain. Surely if I had surgery, there would be pain.” I told him.

I pulled the computer stand closer to me, shifted back to the beginning of the story, and began reading. It was titled Down in Flames by Martha Baimbridge. It opened with a shy teenage girl named Chelsea who, when invited by a popular boy in school to go on a trail ride with him and his friends, had been thrown from the horse and left paralyzed from the waist down. I read on.

"You really want to know?" "Yes." "It's not a pretty or happy story." Her gaze finally met his. "My dad went through an experience similar to yours. He was in a tank that rolled over an IED. He lived, but the left side of his body was heavily damaged. He lost his leg below the knee and his arm." "Your dad was crippled?"