Kevin
Lying in his hospital bed, then later in his bed at home, he had been nearly as helpless as helpless could be. His mother had to help feed him and wash him like he was a baby. If anything was worse than the helplessness, it had to be the humiliation of that. He hated needing help to do the simplest of things, tasks he had always taken for granted before.
Eventually, though, things got better, and he slowly began to accept his limitations and ably do most things for himself. But it would still catch up with him at times, and it would frighten him. Like that time when Joan was still sick and had gotten dizzy and started to sway at the top of the stairs. Before, he'd have run to her and steadied her. Now, he could only call for mom and dad and pray they got there before she fell. Even though it hadn't happened, a vision of her tumbling down the stairs while he sat unable to stop it played though his mind over and over that night. He wanted a family someday, but he wondered, would he be able to protect his children from harm?