Wheelchair Jokes Novels & Stories

The first voice says, "A guy I know at the morgue. Classic Diablo style. He is getting worse with age. More violent." Another man says, "Do not let him hear that. He will break your legs. Remember Fast Eddie?" A rough laugh follows. "Not very fast anymore. Take the brakes off his wheelchair and he can still move pretty quick." The men laugh while their voices fade away. I wait a moment longer, holding my breath until everything becomes silent again.

"I've already found you a wheelchair from a local secondhand goods group. It only costs 30 dollars! "Tomorrow, I'll wheel you downstairs to get some sun. The UV rays will kill the bacteria, and you'll be just fine!" The following day, I helped Iris into that secondhand wheelchair. Its wheels were noticeably warped. "Darling… why is this wheelchair creaking and groaning so much? Also, why doesn't it have any brakes?" Iris shifted her weight uneasily in the seat.

Jack "We're here," Willow mutters, pushing my wheelchair through the open door of the spacious physiotherapy room. There are only a handful of patients scattered around the gym with their physical therapists by their side helping them with some of the contraptions I can't name. "You still haven't given me an answer regarding my offer," I murmur softly just as she stops pushing the wheelchair when we get to the farthest corner of the room, where there are two long iron bars spanning a few metres side by side and about seven feet long.

" Felicia spilled. "She's doing great, or will I say he's doing great," I said playfully to Felicia. "Scoffs, fuck it, you two, you guys are a lot of vibe to be around with, a fuckin gem," Jackson complimented us both. "So why are you in a wheelchair, Jackson? Sorry to ask?," Felicia grew inquisitive. "Uhm, it's kind of complicated, Felicia; maybe I'll tell you later," I said a bit annoyed to her. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry for my foul tongue. I get it now, a rough road you guys have been through lately. I probably understand a bit now," Felicia swiftly responded.

I heard her say hurriedly, while making fake quotation marks in the air. "Come on Nessa he can not be that bad" I say totally believing it was one of those times that Renna exaggerated things. " Trust me it is.....I mean what do you think got him on the wheelchair in the first instance?" I heard her ask, trying to site an obvious example to me. "You cannot be serious Nessa....I mean how is that supposed to be responsible for him being in the wheelchair any ways" I said while furrowing my brows as I tried so hard to understand how it actually related

Something crashed into his bed. Fucked-up situational awareness, Slater thought as he cracked open a lid. Lizzy’s curls swayed as she tried to reverse the wheelchair with one hand. “Crikey poop! You’d think they’d have at least one kid’s wheelchair in a place this huge. Drat!” Johnny’s voice boomed as he turned the corner. “I turn my back for one second—how the hell did you get in here so fast!” “It’s not my fault you need to stop at every vending machine to find the right muffin; you’re the one with the darn tapeworm.”

pressing the nurse call button and asking male nurse Bernard when she was going to get her goddamn crutches "You need a wheelchair," Bernard said when he finally came. "Why do I need a wheelchair? I'm not paralyzed." You already took off that sick bandage and put a cast on my broken leg. Just give me crutches and let me move. " "If you want to move, you're going to have to ask for help." "Oh geez, what kind of hospital is this?" "The kind that cares for you, Miss. You'll get your wheelchair, just not right now." "Crutches, I don't want a stupid wheelchair, that's way too stressful, plus I can move my body. Remember, I said I'm not paralyzed, it's just one freaking broken bone."

All my muscles had the shaky feeling one gets after a hard workout. “So why are you in a wheelchair?” I asked, my curiosity ignoring any kind of filter. “Well, when you get your neck broken isn’t good on the spinal nerves,” Dean said with a smirk. “He’s our little cripple now,” he added, then yelped as Andy ran over his foot with one of his wheels. “Hey, what was that for!” “Really, Dean, really,” I said, shaking my head at him. “So what is going on now?” I took Ryder’s hand in mine. God help me, but I enjoyed touching him or him touching me... yeah, so not creepy at all.

It would take me weeks if not months to earn enough from my waitressing job to cover this expensive as fuck wheelchair. I confirm everything, making double sure the wheelchair will get delivered to the nursing home and then the right patient tomorrow afternoon. The cashier throws out a catty, “Well, you could be there if you’re so worried,” that I respond to with a glare and a roll of my eyes. I don’t have time for her shit.