While I Was Sleeping

I was in a green gown, a green cap. Disposable. Recyclable. Wearing new slippers so that my footprints would not carry or leave dirt. There was a carpet of reversed tapes at the entrance of the inner sliding door, which would lead to the operation room. In the waiting room, where I was sitting with five or six others, there was a TV. But my glasses were taken. I was almost bare. Just a green gown, a green cap, new slippers, nothing else, and soon my throat would be cut open and something be taken.

There was a refrigerator storing fresh tissues. Family or whoever accompanying the patient would be called to the window, listening to the doctor explain whether it was benign or hostile, whether it went on well. Staff were rushing in and out, chatty and sometimes melancholy.

Soon I was called. On my way I saw a small room at the corner, door wide open and vacant. Maybe the staff would nap on the sofa once in a while. Then there was another sliding door. Voila.

Immediately I was asked to lie down on the operation table. It was warm. The blanket was warm as well. It was a crowded room as I was surrounded by the anesthesiologist and at least two or three nurses. They said my trachea was not at the place where it should be. Crooked. Therefore the tube might not go very smooth. But I was more worried about lung collapse, a common side effect of general anesthesia. Anyway we didn't chat much. I was put on a mask and fell unconscious before counting to six.