Two-Thirds Less Of A Man

I have been out for nearly two days. I got an infection in the sores on my stump, and the painkillers the doctor prescribed for the agonizing pain has had me knocked out sleeping most of the time.

I have not spoken to Isabella in these two days at all. I am sure she must be worried sick. I look for my phone on the side table, but it is not there at all. I try to get up, but my body is too weak.

"MATT!"

Matt comes rushing into my room, "Bro, are you okay? What is the matter? Do you need anything?"

"Where is my phone? I need to speak to Isabella."

"It's in the lounge, but bro, there is a problem."

"What? Did she call? Did she tell me to leave her alone?"

"No, bro, no, nothing like that. The thing is, she was very worried about you."

"Matt, what did you do?"

"Your phone was ringing the whole time, and she was worried because you did not answer."

"Matt, what is going on? What is happening with Isabella?"

"Bro,