The sterile smell of the operating room hit me the moment they wheeled me through the swinging doors. This day had been a whirlwind - pain, tests, scans, consultations, and anxious waiting for results, all leading up to an emergency appendectomy. But this? This felt different. This felt real.
There were three women in the room—Dr. Ellis, the anesthesiologist , and two nurses, Rachel and Maria. They were confident, moving urgently in practiced sync.
I tried to remember the last time I had felt like I had control over anything in my life, and the answer seemed so far away. As if to illustrate my point, Dr. Ellis adjusted some knobs on a machine and turned around with a clear oxygen mask in her pink-gloved hand.
"Alright, take some deep breaths for me, please," Dr. Ellis said, her voice soft but firm as she placed the mask on my face. She peered over her black mask looking down at me and said “We need to get started.”
I nodded, but it felt like my heart was racing. There was an undercurrent of fear I couldn’t shake off. I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of the surgery or the overwhelming idea that I was about to be unconscious, completely at their mercy. I couldn’t help but feel small.
Rachel, the nurse who had been connecting my IV fluids, noticed my unease. "You’re nervous," she said, more like a statement than a question, as she placed a reassuring hand on my left shoulder. She gave me a warm smile, her brown eyes gentle but full of quiet confidence. "That’s okay. Most people are."
"I just… I don’t want to go to sleep," I confessed, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. "I don’t like the idea of not being in control."
Maria, who was adjusting the monitor at the side, paused and turned toward me. Her blonde ponytail swung behind her as she approached and took my right hand in both of hers. "It’s completely normal to feel that way," she said, her voice warm, her thumb massaging the back of my hand. "But I promise you, we’re right here with you the whole time. You’re not alone."
I wanted to believe her, but the more I thought about it, the harder it became to imagine letting go.
"You know," Dr. Ellis said with a playful tone, "we’re going to have you napping so soundly, you won’t even know what hit you. You’ll wake up, and it’ll be like no time has passed at all."
Rachel chuckled as she prepared a clear syringe and drained it into my IV. "Maybe we’ll even bring you a cup of coffee when you wake up. Make it feel like a spa day."
I forced a laugh, trying to hide the fear that still gripped my chest.
Dr. Ellis leaned in closer, her voice dropping a little lower. "We can even promise you a smooth, easy wake-up. Just a nice transition. You won’t even notice it." A second, clear, mystery liquid disappeared into my IV.
I was barely listening now. My thoughts swirled, trying to remember all the things I had learned about anesthesia—the way it worked, the way the body was put to sleep, the way it seemed like everything paused, and nothing existed but the deep, inescapable darkness.
But the voices around me were still gentle, the nurses still busying themselves, their hands moving with that professional grace.
"Ready?" Maria asked, and I blinked at her, surprised to see a large syringe full of a thick, white liquid connected to my IV, ready to go. I could tell he was smiling now by the way her cheeks rose out of her mask, her eyes soft and warm. "You won’t feel a thing."
I watched as she began to push the plunger. Slowly at first, but once the milky substance reached the vein, she began pushing faster. I wanted to fight it, to stay awake just a little longer.
But then, the air felt heavier, my thoughts foggier. Lights pulsed, vision blurred, eyes unable to focus as they rolled back.
"Just let go," Rachel whispered as the world began to fade. Her voice so quiet that it almost sounded like a secret. "I’ll be here when you wake up."
2087
jacobvanloon
dededos
kianamaiart
annaxmalina
