Sixteen Years I Didn’t Speak to My Mother. Then I Went Missing, and From Her Sickbed She Said “Go Find Her”

“My leg?” I asked.

“You’re keeping it.”

“Generous of you.”

He laughed under his breath.

“You’ll need rehab, and weeks of wound care.

But I see no reason at all to talk about amputation.

It bought you time — a remarkable amount of time.

And you were also extraordinarily lucky.”