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...then there was Rebekah. I had finally realized why the divorce flap was so upsetting. Relationships meant everything to her, and I had shortchanged her on candor. The open heart she had brought to Walter Reed deserved better. I apologized in a couple of long phone calls to California, promising full disclosure as the bedrock of our relationship from here...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

Before Iraq, the technology of arm prostheses hadn't changed much since World War II. The tiny population of amputees created little market incentive. Miguelez used the burst in demand from Walter Reed to lean on manufacturers for progress. Before long, he was outfitting Iraq war amputees with an electronic hand that opened and closed 2 1/2 times faster and could be programmed to function at different speeds and grip strength...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

Half a year after I dismissed the suggestion from a Walter Reed doctor, the hook had become my trademark. It was brash, straightforward and pragmatic, virtues I cherished. I had left a lot of me behind in the Baghdad grenade attack. By its first anniversary, I was starting to reclaim...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

Lying awake that night, I was reminded of a conversation I'd had with Hal Wain, a psychologist at Walter Reed. I had sought him out a few months earlier to discuss why I had grabbed the grenade. Wain said I had one overriding objective: self-preservation. "That's what all heroes are made of," he said. "I have learned from guys coming back that the instinct to survive, the instinct to take care of oneself or others, is incredibly potent. I really don't care if you did it for your needs or for others...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

...shakes three times a week, a cost he absorbed for months until a group of VA colleagues chipped in for McDonald's gift certificates just before the holidays. About the same time, Jim had befriended a Vietnam vet and Washington restaurateur named Hal Koster, who offered to host Walter Reed patients at his Fran O'Brien's Stadium Steakhouse, located in the basement of the downtown Capital Hilton. Jim rounded up transportation and circulated the invitation on 57. Before long, Friday nights at Fran's became a tradition. Koster drew a big enough crowd a few days before Christmas...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Angels of Ward 57 | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

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