I opened my eyes to blurred vision and a hazy mind in a hospital bed in San Francisco. It was the morphine. That’s why I had the audacity to say, “That wasn’t that bad” in reference to the major surgical procedure I had just endured. I mean I had done the research. I knew the real difficult pain from dilation would visit me a few days later.
After my hubristic declaration of victory, I started to inspect myself. I noticed the now purple dot of dried blood under the clear bandage where they had placed the IV. And that part of my arm had a dull ache. I compared both of my high yellow elbow creases. The other was hardly ever considered viable for an IV or any kind of shot really.