the procedure

Call this a strange coincidence, Dad and I got operated around the same time, Jan 2004. Both were simple, one hour procedures.

I was wheeled to the 6th floor on a stretcher as a mute patient who could only see the ceiling. I could've walked it up myself, but they had their rules and all I could do was lie down and allow them to do what they had to. I don't remember a time when I felt more helpless! As i lay on the stretcher, it was probably my face that mirrored the tension welling up in me. A burly, sweet faced nurse put a green cap on my head, just like the ones they were all wearing, and said "Relax, you wont feel a thing". Now that's some assurance. I began to wonder if there were patients who 'felt a thing'. Soon after, a lady doctor began taking a brief history. "Have you undergone any surgeries? Any allergies?" I hoped her interrogation would continue for long and distract me from the thoughts of the impending operation. But this wasn't to be. The main surgeon, nearing 70, who is well respected and has heaps of experience beamed down at me and said "Let us start". My hands were sweating. I had cold feet. A little voice inside me was screaming "NO! Wait. Maybe I am not ready yet".

Before I knew it, I was being wheeled into the OT and was placed on a narrow operating table. There was a plethora of wires all around my shoulders and head. There was not enough room on the table to place my hands. I was trying to squeeze my hands in when two armrests were brought closer to the table! Now, all that came to mind was the crucification of Christ and then I leaped to Dan Brown. I could see a dozen people in green overalls milling around me. I heard different voices telling me "Take it easy, it will be over in no time. It is only a small procedure". Well, it is definitely easy to say that when you are not the one on the table. And it was interesting to note how they call it – 'a procedure'! Even the chief surgeon said "Relax". Did I have a choice?

I caught a glimpse of the anaesthetist, upside down, as he was bending over me from the top of the table. I was happy to see his calm, cheerful face. He said "I will inject the anaesthesia and you will fall asleep soon. Ok?" I nodded as I saw him inject a cocktail of drugs. I panicked. I could still see the green people. Wasn't the drug working? Will I feel the pain while they operate? And then I remember blinking wildly. I was struggling to keep my eyelids open. I probably didn't want to sleep, lose control and not know what happened. The cheerful face bent over again to gently shut my eyes with a tap of his finger and then it was just dark.

I heard my name being yelled out. "Wake up. The procedure is over." I had been moved to the post-op ward. The voice said "Look who is next to you". Groggy eyed I turned to see daddy dearest on bed next to mine. "Hi daddy" I said meekly. He turned around and said "Oh! It is you!" A pleasant feeling of relief washed over me. The ordeal was as though over. I was delighted to be under his reassuring gaze. Nothing could go wrong now. He was there! He too had undergone a procedure and was in the post-op ward awaiting discharge.

"Good to see you dad" I said. "Not so good to see you in the hospital" he said. He was discharged a couple of hours later. I lay there for a few more hours. It was cold, I was sleepy but alert. I tried my best to sleep amidst the incessant chatter of the nurses and the noise of other patients being wheeled in and out. Later in the ward mum kept me company through the night.

I was happy to be sent home the next day. It was a whole new experience. Thankfully all at the hospital made it a good one.