Coffee and Prosthetics

Set in current day, where John is still an amputee but he is trying out a new, 3-D printed leg designed by an engineer named Dorian, who is himself a double amputee (Army vet).

“Get back! The place is gonna blow! I said get out!”

A startled gasp and a groan as he rolled over, throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them from the bright sun that was coming through the blinds. He lay like that for a while, refusing to get up before doing so, throwing back the curtains and just sighed at himself, trying to ignore the phantom leg feeling that he was having. Hearing the alarm on his phone go off, he eventually got up and while using the crutch he got dressed slowly. Black shirt, black pants with the right leg pinned up to his knee and a lone boot.

He stopped at the mirror and ran a hand through messy brunette hair before continuing on with his morning routine. Brushing his teeth before trying to get downstairs so he could have coffee; however the phone on the wall rang and he answered it. “This is Kennex.” He said, his voice gruff still from waking. The voice on the other end was way to cheery for his liking, but, there was nothing he could really do for it.

“Hello Mr. Kennex, this is Susan from Doctor Anderson’s office and I’m calling on the behalf of payment for your set up of the new prosthesis.” A lady chirruped from the other side and he just waited. “What about it? I thought that my insurance would cover for it.” There was a pause and a bit of typing before Susan spoke again. “Yes, well. It turns out that your insurance doesn’t actually cover for both the fitting and the item itself, but only for the recovery such as the physical and operational therapy.”

Once more, it took the man a moment to understand what was said before he replied. “So you’re saying that I can’t have a new leg, which will help me do my job because my insurance doesn’t exactly cover for the item itself?” The woman only answered with a shaky; “Yes! And if you would like to set up an appointment anyways for your initial x-rays than I would be more than happy to do so for you.” The man gave a small grunt and ended the call, by slamming the receiver back down on the handle. He definitely didn’t have time for that, there was always a catch.

Once he was able to get out of the apartment and down to the main floor to go outside to his car, he was panting and his armpits hurt from the crutches, but he made a promise that he was going to go to every meeting that he had so that he could get back onto the force. Unlocking the car, the man just threw the crutches into backseat of the car before he simply dropped his weight in, and that was before his phone rang again, this time it was boss; the Captain of the force.

“Go for Kennex.” He called, trying to maneuver his way out of the spot, having to work the pedals with his left leg. “John, this is Maldonado.” A woman’s voice sounded over the speakers and he had to bit his lip to keep from groaning. “What’s going on, Sandra?” He asked, getting out onto the road as the woman continued to talk. “I just want to make sure that you’re heading to your meeting.” “That’s exactly where I’m headed.” He replied to her as he turned down on the street that led into the highway.

“You’re not driving are you?” She asked and this time he did groan. “Because I would have sent a car to come and get you, to keep you from doing that.” Maldonado added. “No, I’m fine, Sandra. I don’t need a damn escort to go to my shrink’s office. I am perfectly fine of getting there myself.” He ended that call too with a huff before turning his phone off and tossing it into the passenger seat of the car. As the man drove through a few more intersections and he finally got the building and found a parking spot, which of course took longer than it needed too and now John was five minutes late to his appointment.

Another man held the door open for John as he half hobbled and half crutched his way into the foyer, a quick thanks and he was heading to the elevator; mumbling about how stupid it was for a shrink to be all the way up on the fourth floor and why it was stupid for him to even be going here. Yet, here he was, standing in an elevator with a bunch of other crazies that were obviously going to the same shrink. They had to be. The doors opened and John crutched his way to the reception to let them know he was there before flopping down onto a chair and waited, watching as others were called in before him.

It seemed like hours later and John was nodding off into his chair, his phone turned off and in his pocket, so he wouldn’t get called in the middle of the session. It always seemed to get on Rudy’s nerves. Speaking of which. “John?” A man said, causing the brunette to open his eyes slowly and rubbing the slight sleep from them. “Oh good, you are awake.” He added and helped John up from his seat. “Hey Rudy.” The man in speaking was a lean man, thin with dirty blonde hair and kind eyes. He only smiled at John and held a hand out, letting John go into the room by himself.

Flopping down onto the couch, John let the crutches fall to the floor as Rudy sat down on his way to comfy chair and pretty much just sank into it. At this moment, he really took in John’s state. The mussed brunette hair, tired hazel eyes, the at least week old scruff on his jaw, his shirt was crumpled and his pants had an old stain on them. But nevertheless, he moved to get his notebook and his pen. “How’s it going, John? Has the week been better, how about your appointment?” The man just simply replied with a waved hand.

“No, you have to explain John. We’ve talked about this, you can’t get better if you don’t express.” Rudy replied as he wrote something down and John moved to rub his face. “I was denied okay? They made up some ridiculous reason as to why I couldn’t get new leg. I can’t keep doing this, Rudy. I need my leg, I need to get back to work.” The blonde man simply just nodded. “I understand which is why I’ve decided to ask a friend of mine for help for you.” He got up and took a card off his desk and handed it over to the brunette. “His name is Dorian and he’s just like you, John. He can help you get back onto your feet. That’s his number there; I’ve already told him that you’d give him a call when you were ready.”

The brunette looked down at the card, the number was smudged a little, but there it was. Dorian Richards Nelson Engineering Technician. Call anytime. Amazingly, John moved to place the card into his pocket and tried to get his crutches. “Thanks, Doc.”