I woke up in my room. I was groggy from the combination of anesthetic and morphine. My left leg was slightly elevated on two pillows. A new fourteen-inch incision ran along the outer part of my leg, from mid-buttock down to just above my knee. A small collection bag connected to a drainage tube that protruded from the top of my incision lay beside me on the bed. A catheter tube had been inserted into my bladder in the OR and its drainage bag hung on the bed rail. An IV administered saline, antibiotics, and morphine should I feel the need to hit a button. The RN assigned to my room checked in on me every hour. I slept.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Transforming Trauma to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.