2nd December 2025
Nothing stays with you quite like the moment someone on the other end of the phone says they’re ready to take their first real step toward a brand new bionic arm. As a patient care coordinator with Open Bionics, I’ve had a front row seat to some of the most vulnerable, determined, and human moments I’ve ever witnessed. The calls come from arm amputees, individuals with congenital limb differences, parents, carers, doctors, and nurses from every type of environment – kitchens, hospital waiting rooms, work breaks, even cars parked outside physical therapy. Each one reminds me why this work matters and why sharing my personal journey is part of helping others begin theirs. So today, I want to share three calls from arm amputees I’ll never forget.
I will never forget the soft, careful voice of a mother who spoke in a whisper like her words might break if she said them too loudly. She called while sitting outside her seven year old’s bedroom, phone pressed close, because she didn’t want him to overhear her crying. Her son was born with a limb difference similar to mine and she explained that he was starting to ask why he didn’t look like the other kids in his class.
I could feel the weight she carried because I watched my own mom and dad shoulder that same fear when I was little. I told her what my parents told me when I was just a kid in Erie, Pennsylvania. That my limb difference wasn’t something to hide. That a prosthesis wasn’t about fixing me, it was about giving me the support and motivation to make life easier, more fun, and more full of possibility.
Her voice shifted the second I described the Hero Arm lighting up for the first time in a fitting room. I talked to her about how kids react when they see a hand that moves, grips, and glows. How they usually forget someone has a limb difference because the tech is just too cool. Her tone shifted entirely, almost as if a giant weight had been lifted.
By the end of the call she wasn’t whispering anymore. She said she felt hopeful for the first time in months, and that is why this call matters. When you are a parent trying to support a limb different child, sometimes you need to borrow hope from someone who has already walked the road. That day, I was lucky enough to be that person for her.
The next call that still sits heavy on my heart came from a veteran who told me he didn’t need help. He started the conversation with a steady, almost too calm tone. He said he had lost his arm in service, adjusted as best he could, and had no intention of becoming “one of those people who relies on gadgets.” But halfway through the call, his voice cracked. And then he paused. And then everything poured out.
I knew that emotion well because I lived through moments where I knew a prosthesis would be helpful, but refused to rely on it. I told him about the years I gave up wearing anything, convinced I was “fine” without help, and how eventually I picked up a bionic arm again, not because I was weak, but because I realized my life was fuller and my body was less tired with support.
Something shifted when I explained how the Hero Pro and RGD are built for the kind of durability and grip strength people like him actually need in real life. This wasn’t a gadget, it was gear. This was something engineered to work as hard as he did. He got quiet again and then said the words I knew meant everything. “I think I’m finally ready.”
This call matters because it reminds us that independence isn’t about doing everything alone. It is about giving yourself permission to make your life easier. And when you have lived through trauma, that permission can feel almost impossible. Sometimes the right conversation at the right moment can open a door someone has kept locked for years.
The third call is the one that hit closest to home because it felt like I was talking to my younger self. A teenager called after struggling through high school without a prosthesis. She shared with me that she had recently been feeling different, tired, embarrassed, and angry. She said she was sick of being strong for everyone else and just wanted someone to tell her she wasn’t failing.
I felt that struggle deep in my chest because I remember being that kid. I remember my friends cheering me on, encouraging me to push harder, and reminding me that my limb difference didn’t close doors. I told her about the first time I realized a prosthesis wasn’t giving up. It was leveling the playing field. It was allowing me to do the things I loved without burning myself out or over working my body.
Her whole tone changed once I explained the rapid custom fitting process for the Hero PRO. She loved the idea of something lightweight, responsive, customizable, and fast to deliver. Something designed for teens and young adults who want function without fuss. She said for the first time she could picture herself not just getting by in school but actually enjoying it and embracing who she was.
This call matters because young arm amputees need to hear that taking support does not make them weak. It makes them capable. It makes them confident. It makes them free to live without constantly managing pain, fatigue, and frustration alone.
Every call I take begins with uncertainty and curiosity, but every one ends with possibility. These conversations are the heart of why I do this work and why I share my story. Each person who reaches out is standing at the threshold of a life that can feel bigger, brighter, and more accessible with the right prosthesis.
Disclaimer: Open Bionics is a medical company and adheres to strict HIPAA compliance standards. The calls featured in this blog have been shared with full prior consent from the patients involved. Any calls placed with Open Bionics will remain strictly confidential.
If you are someone with a limb difference reading this, I want you to know that your story matters just as much as mine. There is no wrong moment to begin your journey with a bionic arm. Whether you are a parent searching for answers, a veteran reclaiming independence, a teen trying to find confidence, or someone like me who simply needed a bit of motivation to try again, we are here to offer that support. Let’s chat.
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