*Blake*
Every time the agony in my leg brings me to the surface of wakefulness, she pours something thick down my throat and I begin the spiraling descent once again into oblivion.
The only consolation is that until I succumb completely to the sweet allure of a painless existence, she caresses my brow with cool fingers and wipes my chest with a damp cloth. For those few moments when awareness hovers, I am wondering how much longer the physician will be ripping into my leg. Or is he finished? Is that the reason for liquid instead of ether? Everything is a confusing swirl of pain and nothingness.
When I awake with no agony, panic sets in. I fear my leg is gone. I can’t feel it. Throwing off the covers, I struggle to find it.
Her hands meet mine, palm to palm, cool to heat. “No, no, you mus
