As she bound my body and my head with gauze, a housekeeper came in to change the soiled bed sheets and a male orderly came with a wheel chair. The nurse affixed my IV drip bag to the chair and made me sit in it
"I can walk!" I insisted, but the nurse would have none of that.
"If you want to go see your men, you need to sit in this chair so I have somewhere to hang this IV bag."
I scowled at the IV bag. It was such a flaming pain, but the nurse reprimanded me with a stern look.
"You are not allowed to remove it. There is medicine in this bag that needs to be administered to you at regular intervals. The medicine is keeping your contusions from swelling and injuring other surrounding tissues so you don't get brain damage."
"Now," she stood back and looked with a critical eye at her handiwork. "I will allow you to visit them, but only for half an hour. Then, you have to return to your room so both they and you can rest."
"But—"
