I Got a Bionic Leg After Cancer — Now My Mum Says It’s “Unfair” to My 11-Year-Old Brother
After losing my leg to bone cancer, a high-functioning prosthetic let me walk and plan a future. But because it used part of our family’s savings, my younger brother called it unfair — and my mum agrees.
At 16 I underwent an above-knee amputation to stop aggressive bone cancer. Two years of chemo, pain, and isolation later, doctors said I qualified for a high-functioning prosthetic that would help me walk, climb stairs, and get to uni independently. The NHS covered part of it; my mum offered to use money from a household “emergency/future needs” fund — some of which she’d also earmarked for my 11-year-old brother, who is neurodivergent. The prosthetic changed my daily life almost immediately. Then my brother had a “bad emotional day,” said it was unfair that I got something “cool and expensive,” and my mum told me she regretted spending so much without considering how it might affect him.
I survived cancer, lost a leg, accepted a prosthetic partly paid for by family savings, and now I’m being told I should have waited so my little brother wouldn’t feel hurt — and it makes me feel like I’m being punished for surviving.
I’m 18F; my brother is 11M. After an above-knee amputation at 16 and years of chemo, I qualified for a high-functioning prosthetic. The NHS covered part; my mum used a family “emergency/future needs” fund for the rest — money she has also set aside for my brother, who is neurodivergent and needs extra support. He’s loving and intense, and our home often revolves around his feelings. The prosthetic isn’t cosmetic; it helps me walk farther than a few meters and manage stairs without crawling.
“I didn’t ask to lose my leg. I didn’t ask for her money.”
Everything shifted when my brother had a “bad emotional day.” He told Mum it was unfair I got a “cool” robot leg and he got nothing. Instead of explaining why medical equipment isn’t a prize, Mum sat me down to say she regretted spending so much on me without considering how it might affect him and that we should have waited until he was older to understand. She asked me to see it from his side and be mindful of his sensitivity.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much on you without thinking of how it might affect him emotionally.”
I kept the prosthetic and kept walking — because I need it — but now I feel like a villain for accepting help to be mobile. The house feels tense; I’m trying to be smaller and quieter so my progress doesn’t cause more conflict, while also grappling with the feeling that surviving cancer has somehow become a competition I wasn’t supposed to win.
🏠 The Aftermath
Right now, I’m mobile with the prosthetic and rebuilding my life, but there’s lingering resentment at home and a heavy guilt my mum is asking me to carry.
Savings were used for the prosthetic; my brother remains upset; my mum expresses regret and wants me to prioritize his feelings; I’m focusing on uni and daily independence.
Practically, I can walk longer distances and handle stairs; emotionally, family dynamics are strained and conversations revolve around protecting my brother’s feelings over my medical needs.
Medical necessity isn’t a luxury item — but it’s being treated like one.
I’m grateful to move again and also sad that recovery has become another source of conflict. The irony is that the thing helping me feel human again is what’s making home harder.
💭 Emotional Reflection
This is a clash between medical necessity and a family culture built around protecting a sensitive child’s emotions. No one chose cancer or amputation, and a prosthetic isn’t a present; it’s mobility, dignity, and safety.
Your mum tried to meet both children’s needs with one limited fund and defaulted to prioritizing harmony over explanation. Clear framing — that treatment is not “getting something” — could help reduce jealousy without erasing your needs.
Reasonable people may disagree about money choices, timing, and language with a neurodivergent child, but fairness here isn’t equal goodies — it’s appropriate support for different realities.
Readers weighed in on whether “fair” should mean equal spending or meeting medical needs first.
This was healthcare, not a luxury. Mum should’ve explained that clearly and backed you up.
I get protecting a sensitive kid, but teaching him that your mobility is “unfair” isn’t protecting — it’s misinforming.
Use the moment to set expectations: different kids, different needs. Therapy for everyone wouldn’t hurt.
Overall, commenters supported the prosthetic as a medical necessity while urging better communication and boundaries around the brother’s feelings and the family fund.
🌱 Final Thoughts
Recovering from cancer shouldn’t require apologizing for mobility. Families can validate a child’s emotions without redefining essential care as “unfair.”
Equality isn’t identical purchases; it’s giving each person what they need to live.
What do you think?
Would you have left, or stayed and kept trying to make it work? Share your thoughts below 👇
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