The pain started as a dull burn.
Then it turned into fire.
By the time I reached the hospital, I couldn’t feel my toes anymore.
—
“Compartment syndrome,” the doctor said.
His voice was calm, but his eyes weren’t.
“You need surgery. This week. Or you may never walk normally again.”
—
I stared at him, still in uniform, sweat clinging to my back.
“How much?”
—
“About $5,000.”
He didn’t sugarcoat it.
“After that… we can’t guarantee anything.”
—
Five thousand dollars.
That was the price of my leg.
—
I called my parents from the hospital hallway.
My hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
From pain.
