January 31th, 2017 - The Day of Surgery - Part 1It’s about 06:30 in the morning. I’ve just managed to fall asleep somehow when the door of my room opens and the lights turn on.
Two sisters (nurses) and one of the ward boys come in telling me that my surgery is now scheduled for 08:00 AM and that I should be ready for transportation by 07:30 AM.
I’m given a blue patient gown and disposable underwear from the ward boy.
The underwear is made of plastic and reminds me of diaper.
One sister approaches me for checking my blood pressure, while the other sister is handing me the agreement form to sign which will allow the doctors to perform the surgery.
As quickly as they have raided my room, the sisters leave again.
The ward boy stays to assist me with taking a shower and getting dressed.
I decline his offer telling him that I still can shower and dress myself
and kindly ask him to return sometime later.
Being alone again, I calmly get up, take a shower and get dressed.
I still have 25 minutes left after that and take a seat on my bed again.
The shower has made me feel awake for now and have time to think.
Most of my thoughts are too personal to share, but things that I’m comfortable to share are the following:
“So this is it.”
“Am I really doing this right now?”
“So much hard work for this very moment.”
“I didn’t imagine it to be like this.”
“So much trouble until now, I hope that everything will be fine from here on.”
“I hope I didn’t forget about anything important.”
“I wish I wouldn’t have to do this.”
“I need this surgery, no matter what, and there is no way for me to turn back now.”
“I’m feeling sleepy again, but oh well, they will knock me out later anyway
”
My mind and my body are calm now and I’m accepting the situation.
I’m thirsty and a little hungry but I’m not allowed to eat or drink anything. The disposable underwear feels uncomfortable.
The door of my room opens and a sister comes in again.
She has a syringe with her and says that she has to test my skin for traces of LSD
I tell her that I have not taken any drugs secretly, but she keeps on insisting.
They had a case with another patient lately who had taken that drug before their surgery which is why the sisters are now ordered to “skin-test” everyone.
At around 07:30 AM the door opens once more and two ward boys come in bringing a wheeled stretcher with them.
I’m told to lay on it.
They provide me with a pillow and a blanket and fasten belts around my legs and my upper body. Finally, let’s roll…!
…or not yet, because suddenly, one of the sisters rushes into my room informing us that I will have to wait for the surgery a little longer due to technical difficulties.
Oh my God, this is not happening!
I ask the sister to specify “technical difficulties” but she doesn’t know.
Becoming a little frustrated I get off the stretcher and sit on my bed again.
It takes about 40 minutes until I can finally lay on the stretcher again.
But it’s for real this time.
I’m carried to the area where the surgeries are being performed and put in some kind of waiting room.
More waiting and even more unwanted time for me to think, yay!
There is a group of doctors and nurses standing at the entrance.
I can hear them having parts of their conversation in English.
One of the men’s father has just passed away and he thinks about quitting his medical carrier so he could help his family and follow in his father’s footsteps.
There is crying involved and I’m watching.
There is another wheeled stretcher to my left side. A middle-aged Indian lady is lying on it, constantly whispering her prayers.
Too much depression and anxiety around me. It makes me think about my own not so happy life.
I’m feeling depressed now.
Then the group dissolves and they take the praying woman with them.
The guy who is about to end his carrier comes to my bed, I can clearly see in his eyes that he was crying too.
He asks me about my condition, and explains to me what is going to happen next.
He then disappears like everyone else.
I’m alone now. I’m a little depressed, and all this waiting has finally made me nervous
About 15 minutes later, Dr. Deepak and his team and the anesthetist appear on the scene.
They come to me and we talk about what is going to happen from the doctors’ perspective.
After that, and like it should have been from the very beginning, it all happens very quickly.
I’m finally carried to the operating theater where I put myself from the stretcher on the operation table.
I lie on a hard surface.
Everything I touch is cold and the air in this room is like in a freezer. I’m freezing.
The staff covers my body with a blanket, but it doesn’t really help.
My arms get repositioned to the sides of the table.
Someone checks my blood pressure while someone else is putting a catheter into my right hand. It hurts too much; he has to find another spot.
I can see the sad guy over me again. He has tears in his eyes while doing his job.
The anesthetist starts to ask me how I feel and if I could tell him my name.
By the time, his questions become more and more ridiculous.
Suddenly, my body starts feel relaxed and the cold is gone.
I say to anesthetist that I know why he is asking me all these silly questions.
He laughs and asks me why.
No reply from me