The decision to go for a nice, leisurely stroll was a bad one, but that's what stubbornly ignoring a disability was all about. Just a few minutes after setting out from his duplex Sid's leg started to hurt. He kept walking despite it (hell, he kept walking to spite it), doggedly hobbling along with his cane and visciously stamping out any leaves or small insects that had the misfortunate of getting in his way. It helped to get his mind off the throbbing that was steadily building up towards screaming pain. He was fine, really, the trick was to work through the pain... or so he told himself until it came to be too much to stand.

"Stupid old man," he muttered to himself. He spent a few more seconds silently cursing himself until the sound of the river not far from the path reached his ears. That gave him an idea.

After quickly glancing about to make sure no one was around to see, he very carefully picked his way through the brush to find a rocky outcropping that was perfect for what he needed. Looking around yet again, Sid slowly walked down to the edge. Slowly, very carefully, he sat down. Rolling the legs of his jeans up was an equally slow, painful process, but he managed to get them up to his knees. Nothing had changed, at least not yet. His right leg was a nasty mess of scar tissue, unlike the other leg which still had a healthy amount of graying hair covering it.

The doctors said it was the best they could do, and he was really lucky to even keep his leg. With his cane resting in his lap, Sid thought about that as he dipped both legs in the cool water. It was enough to make him forget about keeping a lookout for anyone who might come along and see him.