My Sister Signed Papers Before I Was Dead

Earlier, I Was a Body in a Bed

My name is Major Claire Whitaker.

At least, that was the name on the chart taped outside Room 614 at Walter Reed.

Inside the room, I was swelling, stitched, wired, and useless. My left femur had been pinned. Three ribs cracked. Skull fracture. Liver bruised so badly the trauma surgeon used the word “angry,” which I found continue reading …