The surgical ward looks like a workshop.
The assistants and surgeons wear dark blue and are chattering away to themselves, oblivious to the pounding in my chest. I scoot onto the operating table and position my head on the headrest. The lamp above is bright. Someone attaches a heart rate monitor to my chest and now I can hear my panic in accelerating beeps. An assistant takes my left arm, finds a vein and inserts a needle.
The anaethetist is a fifty something year-old woman with a face like a hawk. She's done this a million times and I get the impression that she kind of enjoys it. It's not a pleasant thought. She injects a chemical into my vein and there is a moment where nothing happens. I wait and start a count down in my head. 10, 9, 8, 7...
There's a sudden rush of heaviness and my eyes close. I completely shut down.
In my surgical dream I am swimming in an infinite universe. I am completely at peace and I reach out to the stars. I have no body. I have no attachments to life. I simply am.
I hear a voice shouting my name. I rush back into my body. Someone is holding my head up, telling me to take deep breaths into an oxygen mask. My heart is out of control and I am panicked. I take deep breaths and very slowly open my eyes. My heart slows down. I squint through the haze looking for something for my mind to attach itself to.
I see a clock.
I am alive. I am alive.