I laid on the operating table waiting to be wheeled into the operating theater.
Feels like a specimen about to be cut open actually, just laying there, then sitting up and looking around.
It was quiet, not many people around. I don’t find lying down comfortable so I just sat there and waited, consciously keeping my mind blank.
I had read about what this surgery is going to be like and I could visualize the whole procedure in my head, having 3 needles in my eye which is pried and kept open.
A nurse appeared and wheeled me into the preparation room. Friendly and bubbly lady, full of smiles. I don’t know how I know she’s smiling, she’s wearing a mask. I just know, somehow.
She went through the paperwork and briefed me about the surgery that was about happen. Everything was fine and dandy until…
“WHAT?! LOCAL ANESTHESIA?! I THOUGHT I SAID I WANT GENERAL?!”
Nurse: “Doctor said you didn’t want a tube down your throat.”
Me: “I said I wanted a tube down my throat, I want to sleep!”
Nurse: “I go ask the doctor k, you wait.”
After a few minutes…
Nurse: “Doctor say GA can, but you must wait 3 more hours.”
After a few minutes…
Me: “Screw it, let’s get it over and done it.”
The nurse went to get the doctor and he soon walked into the prep room.
“I’m glad you made the right decision.”
They inserted the IV into my vein and told me that they gonna give me a sedative. Truth be told, both the surgeon and the anesthesiologist are extremely experienced judging from their age (that’s almost all i know about the one putting me to “sleep”.)
They covered my face with a sterile cloth. I can vaguely make out the words “mask”. I was slipping in and out of consciousness at that point. I can remember a bright light then 2 needles poking into my eye.
I didn’t feel anything. It just looks like 2 lines entering into my visual field. Then they started moving and as they move, it gets darker and darker.
I can hear the conversations going on…
“scarring tissue”. “endolaser”. “Silicon oil.” “Stitch”.
Thing about having a Professor operating on you is you kinda know that you are part of a lesson or lecture. These conversations sounded like a practical session with the teacher showing students what is happening to the specimen. I couldn’t know for sure, only hearing snippets here and there.
It didn’t feel like 90 minutes. Shorter.
Before I know it, he told me its done and I will be wheeled out to the recovery room.
That’s it, the 1st surgery of my life… the 1st of many that is to come.
This path I walked is not what others should follow. 