13
I lay awake in my hospital bed after surgery, the priority right now that I have to prove that I can pee. The anesthetic can put the bladder to sleep apparently, and if it doesn’t rouse that means the insertion of a catheter. They fitted me with one during the initial surgery some eleven days earlier. I woke to find the catheter inserted you know where, and an external fixator fitted to my leg – that’s like scaffolding screwed directly into the bones to hold them in place while they wait for the swelling to go down so they can then perform the actual surgery. I wore the catheter for…
12
I wake to somebody bouncing on my bed by my right ear – I hear the springs of the mattress recoil; feel the depression of the mattress; and am startled by the unexpectedness of it all. They bounce again around the middle of the bed, and one final time at the end of the bed, like they’re working their way down a hopscotch grid. And that’s it. Done. It happens in the time it takes me to wake, so I’m playing catch-up on processing all this. “Who’s there?” I bark. There’s no response. I see nothing. But my heart thumps. It’s night – early morning. Who the hell would bounce…