Eighteen
“This is ridiculous, Paul!”
Carey watched closely as the young man in the wheelchair spun around to face his upset father.
“What’s ridiculous, Dad? The fact I’m taking control of my own life?”
“No, the fact you’re giving up!”
“Giving up on what?” Paul’s voice was low and controlled. His palms were open and resting on what remained of his thighs, which ended several inches above where both his knees should be.
“On walking again! What else?”
Carey remained silent, letting Paul and his father finally get the truth out into the open.
“I’m done with the prosthetics,” Paul said firmly. “Walking is your goal, not mine.”
“But why?” His father looked truly bewildered. “I don’t understand. You were doing so well at physical therapy, and you just got approved for those legs with the
