Dave woke up feeling drowsy and weak. He sat up using his elbows per his habit and looked around.
He was hooked to a bank of equipment next to the bed, with a big video monitor and other beeping blinking machines he sort-of recognized from medical dramas, including an IV bag. He knew he was in a standard hospital recovery-room. He could tell because it was decorated in the ugly faux-home style that was supposed to help keep patient morale up.
Dave looked at his hands and found they were heavily bandaged. Unexpectedly his legs and one hip were wrapped in the protective white material also. He felt some itching underneath the wrappings but ignored it with an effort. He leaned back into his pillow and sighed drifting away, probably so relaxed from all the meds being pumped into him he thought to himself.
A nurse came into the room shortly afterwards and after looking at the digital readouts showing Dave's vitals and overall health she excused herself to call the doctor.
