Chapter 1: Life with one leg

I was a normal child, born with two legs, like everyone else but that didn’t last long. It is a blessing that I now have a happy life but let me tell you the story from the beginning.

My name is Wendy Adair and I was born into a middle class family. My father, George Adair, was the owner of a financial advisory firm and quite wealthy. My mother, Sharolta Adair, was stay-at-home mother and wife who raised we three children. There is me, the youngest, my elder brother Carl, and my sister Jessica. My mother came from Hungary where my maternal grandparents still live in Budapest. Jessica was attending college taking business administration, and Carl, already graduated, was working for an architectural firm. I wanted to be a primary school teacher, because I liked younger children very much. I had given my virginity to my high school sweetheart, Don. He and I planned to go to the same college where he would study to become a chemist.

After graduation we had this last summer to enjoy before the hard work of university started. All went well until one evening, as usual, we went dancing with our usual friends. We generally refused any sort of drugs, but this evening, our group, unfortunately decided to experiment a little. Don’s friend Frank drove everybody home in his car, even though he was under the influence of the drugs like the rest of us.

That was how the accident happened. Frank didn’t see the dairy transport tanker until it was too late and my life changed for ever.

Everybody was hurt to some degree but I was the most seriously injured; the rescue crew had to cut me free from the car. They got me out alive, but my right leg was so damaged by crush injuries, it could not be saved and the surgeons had to amputate. I will never forget the shock when I awoke in my hospital bed. They said I was lucky even to survive – true but of little consolation at the time. The others in the car recovered quickly but I was not so fortunate. They started their college lives, while I had to learn to live with one leg. Don went to college and his love for the amputee vanished in the distance.

After all the years it is interesting that Becky my youngest and Don’s eldest are classmates in primary school. Don avoids me when he sees me at parent/school meetings or in town. I know he feels a great deal of remorse for abandoning me but I don’t care. I have a good husband and we are blessed with two beautiful, smart and healthy children and enjoy a great life together.

But let me go back in time and tell you how my husband and I became a married couple, and how we live our life.

After the accident my life took a turn and even the simplest things became a challenge. I was always a good student and focused on what I had to do to learn to cope with my new condition. I lived at home with my parents and, although a little depressed at first, started to accustom my self to this change in my life. Family support and my love of life eventually triumphed and I used my crutches to get about more and more. With practice and blessed by youth, I became very adept and walked our neighborhood streets, venturing further away as I got more accustomed to everything. My parents bought a Ford Focus station wagon with an automatic transmission and I put my crutches in the back seat and drove anywhere I needed to go.

I was still an attractive young woman; blond hair, blue eyes and firm, C cup breasts. I caused a stir in the places I went but my list of acquaintances had mostly dwindled to the shop assistants and waitresses of the places I visited. My old classmates were away in college, so I didn’t have many friends to talk to. Only one of my high school classmates, Jane, visited me sometimes but that was irregular at best as she was at college too.

Later, though, when getting about was no longer such a challenge, I got so snappy at home that my mother thought I should devote myself to some “useful activity”. She urged me to help with the housework but moving in narrow places turned out to be more difficult than in the spacious streets and malls. Simple household chores were a tough nut for a cripple!

Chapter 2 »