In the Operating Room

The Day of Surgery. It is 6:30 am. The loud ringing of the alarm clock is shattering the peace of such quiet morning, but seems that this peace has been already shattered for some time now as I have been already awake. Maybe I am letting my nervousness and worry from that day take control of my thoughts and senses. It is my first surgery ever, and, ironically enough, it is the only type of surgeries which makes me simply breathless whenever I watch it or hear someone talking about it! Now I have an hour before I head to the hospital, enough time to remind myself of the plan for the surgery: go through it, hang tough, get out of it standing tall. A plan so simple! As much as I hope that the Matrix's famous line "There is no spoon!" applies here, I am pretty sure that there will be not just a spoon, but a whole silverware! Where is Neo now when you need him?!! 

In the Hospital. It is 8:30 am. I checked in into the reception and went for the nursing department to do the final check-ups before the surgery, and then a long wait ... Waiting for my turn, for my name to be called. It is interesting how masterful I am in hiding all the nervousness and the shiver deep inside while appearing so calm and in control from the outside. The longer I wait, the colder it gets, the more I recall all the thoughts that prevented me from having a good night sleep the night before, the more the effort I exert to bury the shivers under the soil of my innerness. Then, the waiting is over.

In the Operating Room. It is 9:30 am. I am inside the operating reception room, all by myself: no companion, no support, even no clothes but that loose blue garment and that white baggy head cover. The wheel bed is set, the needle is in my vein, and the solution is in my blood. Being all set, there I am transported to this fully equipped room. There are the bright lights above my head, so bright like the day light. And there I get swallowed inside these lights, totally embraced by its chilly rays. The surgery begins...

Where am I? I remember that vast green meadow, with its tender sun, its delightful weather, and its evergreen trees and colorful flowers dancing happily in the fresh breeze. One of my oldest dreams. And there I am, a little child, running and running without getting tired, feeling so cheerful with that pure smile drawn on his innocent face. A scene so pleasant to the beholder.

Suddenly it gets dark, and there are a couple of surgeons performing a surgery to somebody. And the closer I get, the more amazed I become, for that 'somebody' is no one else but myself! Is this a dream? Or maybe a nightmare! and if so, will I ever wake up from it?? I can see the patient shaking, but so am I. I can feel the patient is semi-conscious, but so am I too. A trembling image of some kind of spectrum, longing to return to its flesh and blood form. Then a voice comes from nowhere: "Hang tough, it is almost over." It looks like the voice of salvation, and upon following it, the darkness gradually fades. The surgery is over.

Deliverance. I do not know what time it is. I am not sure where I am. I am sure of only one thing: it feels so cold in this place! So there I go, or I am helped to go, to the same operating reception room, and here I am, standing tall, taking careful steps towards the door of deliverance. The shiver is withering, the lights are glowing, warmth is finding its way inside my heart. Strangely enough, I see a picture of that same green vast meadow on my way outside. More strangely enough, I feel like that little boy, so happy and willing to run and run without getting wearied. The spectrum is liberated to join its fellow sun beams. I am free.