Few days have passed since their last mission. Andrea was hard at work of taking care of every patient under her care and order every other doctor and nurse around the clock. In the gymnasium, some of the freed slaves were still in agonizing pain. Some have taken their own life during the night to be released from the pain. Some of them have been received wood prosthetic limbs to help them get by. Some of them received one prosthetic such as an arm, a hand, a foot, or even a leg. While others received more such as one whole arm and a leg or even more.
The mechanics of the prosthetics were simple yet unordinary. For the hand prosthetic, to open or close the hand, it relied on the movement on arm it’s attached to. If you move your arm counter-clockwise and the palm is facing upwards, the hand will open. Move it clockwise with the palm facing downward and the hand will close. And if there was an object in its palm when it closes; such as a spoon, fork, or even a pencil, the palm will hold the object in place until the person opens their palm again. And arm prosthetic works in a similar fashion but would need to surgically attach to them but need to be custom made to match the necessary length for the user. Otherwise, the mismatch of the shape or even length of the prosthetic arm causes more of hinder to the user than a benefit.
Prosthetic legs were simpler but also hard to maintain as they would need to assist the user for mobility purposes. Such as walking and running or achieve daily routines in day-to-day life. They would need regular maintenance every week for repairs or even replacements if the prosthetic is beyond repair. Andrea designed these prosthetic limbs as early as during her sophomore year of her university, back when she was just learning the practice of medicine and exploring the idea of replacing limbs. She heard that humans have already put this into actual use by now. However, their prosthetic was advanced from what she was able to tell from her minor visits to the human realm.
After her graduation, she commissioned every blacksmith in the city when the population was larger at the time, for her prosthetic plan. And each one of them came up with their own variant of the prosthetic limbs. However, they were not as functional or as durable as she had hoped as they either broke on impact or fell apart from the balance issue. Her plan would have failed if it was for one blacksmith who managed to not only succeed for her commission request but also from one of the oldest blacksmiths in the city, Locket Ironwood. His first version of the prosthetic was rough around edges but did the job. A lot more compared to the other blacksmiths who made their prosthetics into just plain sculptures that look like limbs but weren’t as functional as Locket’s prosthetic. He would later then improve his craft by making more of them and each was better than the last.
Currently, the south is using his 7th version of the ironwood prosthetic limbs. However, not many of the freed slaves were willing to accept the prosthetics. It was not a matter of can they get a prosthetic limb to replace the ones they’ve lost. But more of them won’t accept it. Some should get as the damage of their severed limbs was severe and they won’t be able to make it far without some form of assistance. Most of them lost their dominant arms or worse, loss of their legs entirely. They were lucky that they didn’t bleed to death. But some of them, they would have preferred that way.
“Sir, please. Accepting these won’t cost you a cent. With it, you can walk proper-“
“DON’T GIVE ME YOUR SYMPATHY CRAP! I WON’T ACCEPT ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN MY LIFE!!”
A skirmish erupts between a patient and doctor as they try to apply the prosthetic on him but he is rebelling violently about it. To the point, he’s using a walking cane as a means of offense. Taking a swing at anyone that comes near him.
“Sir, please understand. We’re only trying to help you!” The doctor said as he tries to calm the patient.
“Help. Help? How are you helping me exactly? How is keeping me here, helping?” he said.
The patient then gestures over to his severed left arm.
“Doctor, do you see what’s there?”
“Sir, I don’t-“
“ANSWER ME, DOCTOR! WHAT DO YOU SEE HERE!?”
The doctor and the nurse were frightened by his scream. The whole gymnasium fell in silence as everyone turned their attention towards the yelling patient and the doctor. With hesitation, the doctor asked his patient’s question.
“A lost limb, sir.”
“No. Not just a lost limb. It’s what cost me, to survive. A burning reminder…..just to live.”
The tears begin to ball out from the man as his body shook. Memories of his past were swelling inside of him as he remembered every bit of how his arm was hacked off of him. He then uncovers the blankets to show his right leg with a missing foot.
“Now this… this is a lost limb doctor. For running away to gain freedom. So they cut it off to stop me from running away. But this here….my arm is what cost me to survive.”
The doctors and nurses were left speechless. The other free slaves knew what he was talking about and know his pain. For they too know it means to trade something up to live.
“I cut it off….. because I had enough of living as a slave…. But I …. But I abandoned my friends….. my family… to save myself… only to be recaptured….. when they took me back. All I saw….. all I saw was their head on pikes. A “reminder” they said. For trying to run, for trying to gain freedom.”
The patient starts laughing out of madness as well as tears bawling out from his eye. The doctor was in shocked and in horror at the details he’s telling. He didn’t spare them for knowing his tale. He made sure they know what they all have been through.
“A “reminder” they said. A reminder that we…. Don’t deserve anything. That we deserve to live only as slaves…. Only …to suffer.”
The man pauses for a moment as he remembered everything that they have done to him. The torture, the abuse, the starvation, and the endless restless nights. The man then threw a tantrum by slamming his cane around him as he screams in anguish until he breaks at the rear end of his bed. The man’s arm shook as his memories resurge to him until he throws his cane across the room as he curls up and cries. A nurse steps close to him and to comfort him by stroking his head. The man ignored her however, he didn’t want sympathy or pity from anyone.
The next day, the man was not in his bed. The doctor was about to send out a search party but one of the guards told him there was no point. They already know where he is and they’re already bringing him back. Covered in bruises, the man was out cold by the guards was in a straight jacket for restraining. The doctor then viewed outside as he sees a step stool and noose attach to a tree.
“Even with all the pain, he has gone through. Death can’t always be his true salvation.” The guard said.
The guard then carried him back to his bed. For they also sympathize with the man. For they too, know what it means to be a prisoner of war in order to break one’s spirit until there’s nothing left. One of the guards lefts to grab something while the other opted to stay and watch over him. When the other guard returned, he came back with a new cane for the man and sat next to his fellow guardsmen, and waited for the man to wake up again. For they will try to add him as best as they can. The doctor was marveled by them, for caring for him. The doctor then removed his glasses and begins to break out in tears.
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