"Can you help me learn to use my right arm again?"

I was finishing up in the gym a few days back, and this man in a wheelchair beckons me over with his left arm. I come up to him and he asks me,
"Can you help me?"
I look at his arm, how his right forearm is caved in, and then at him.
He says, "Pinched nerb."
"Excuse me?," I ask.
"Pinched nerb, I have, a pinched nerb. From this Labor Day."
"Oh! You have a pinched nerve."
"Can, you, help, me? Do, you, think, I, can, use, it, again?"
I look at his arm again, and he's holding a five-pound weight.
"I don't know much about physical therapy. I would help you, but I don't want you to get hurt. I'm not sure how to help, but I can talk to you while you exercise."
He asks, "Can I call you?"
He shuffles his left arm through a bag on the side of his wheelchair. He hands me his phone.
"Do you text?"
"Hmm?" I ask.
"Text--so you can un-der-stand me."
"Oh, sure. I text."
"Will, you, answer, it, if I, call?"
"I won't answer immediately... sometimes I will. Usually I'd call people back, but I will answer it when I can."

I type in my name and number into his phone. I hand it back, and pronounce my name clearly for him. He offers me his hand and says it was very nice to meet me. I shake his hand and walk out of the gym.

That moment made me think of a few things--how I miss my god brother who is in a similar physical situation, how I don't pity him, yet admire his resilience and willing to ask for help so early after his incident, and how I don't know how to respond or how I should have responded to him. I tried my best to be respectful, and watch out for my personal liability. Because, I'm not a physical therapist. I don't want to pretend I'm something I'm not to help someone. It also made me think of his progress with mourning the loss of his body, and partial cognitive function. He is a truly resilient individual--so open to receive help from others, I think he'd be a great role model for younger people who are going through a similar situation of loss.