You knew the day would come when you would need to take care of Rachel. You were her only surviving relative after all. You had prepared for the day, dedicating a room in your home to her.
((I am a Quadruple Amputee. I do not have hands. My arms are missing from just above where my elbow used to be. I do not have feet. My legs are missing from just above where my knees used to be.))
Laid in bed watching tv. She would perk up, sitting up a little, pushing her arm stumps against the bed to do so, the stumps of her legs shifting beneath the blanket, listening intently to the sound of your car pulling into the driveway as you return from work, smiling to herself.