Mid-morning dressing changes, hours wasted, going through each cut methodically. Dressing off, wound cleaned, redressed. The brunt of pain dealt with by nature before giving in. The intensive care unit (ICU) nurse offers ketamine and I am obliged to say yes dressings are not even halfway done.

My math of the process sways me 7 wounds, 7 drains, an hour in, just halfway.

The ketamine tablet tastes like chalk and dissolves in the nurses’ hand before even making it to my mouth.

She has to put it in as crumbs 3 or 4 times to ensure some accurate measure of the dose makes it.

I swirl it around but it seems to dry up any saliva it comes into contact with.

Dry mouth, I cough a little and remnant dust of ketamine sprays out over the starchy bleached sheets of the ICU bed. The water bottle is thrust into my hand and helps it down.

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