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The nurse gently lays me back on the surgical bed. The paper covering rustles slightly and brushes uncomfortably against the exposed skin of my arms and thighs. I shift a little in an attempt to make myself more comfortable. My face must clearly be reflecting how much my stomach is churning for the procedure ahead, as the nurse asks if I need a bag. I take a deep breath to try and steady my nerves. The odd scent of various chemicals and cleaning solvents doesn't help but I still decline her offer. She nods and places the rubbery, transparent mask over my nose and mouth. There's a soft hiss as the gas flows through the tubes and invades my lungs. The nurse counts down from ten. My mind blacks out before she reaches five.
Awareness slowly returns to me as I lay on the bed. That hadn't been too bad, I muse idly. My head feels heavy and as I see no reason to move yet, I let myself remain still in the relative silence of the recovery room. The door to the room opens and several people come walking into the room. A brief draft brushes over my arms before it closes. The nurses most likely, come to check on my status. I open my eyes to show I am awake. My eyelids refuse to obey. Concern begins to wash over me and I try to open my mouth to call them. When my jaws remain locked together, I try to move my limbs. Panic sets in with full force now as the individuals take up position around my bed. A voice that I recognize as the one belonging to the surgeon speaks up.
"If everybody is ready, let us proceed with the operation."
Written by Nachtrae