A Passerine Bird
Nov. 2nd, 2024 08:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingboot'You don't need a pre-med for this,' said the anaesthetist, 'it's a twenty minute operation.' Trypanophobia is one of those issues that automatically gets downgraded to not liking needles.
'I don't like needles either,' said the anaesthetist.
'I don't like needles either,' said the nurse.
Yes, solidarity and all that, well done, came the voice in my head, either of you got a history of going into shock when injected? Or having a panic attack that results on trays full of stuff and large pieces of equipment being knocked away/ kicked across the room? Because if that's OK, come on and let the good times roll! They applied lots of emla cream instead, taped it over the back of the hand. The result was that the cannula didn't hurt as much but then a rather unpleasant pain started spreading. I was coughing, and felt nauseous.
'Breath deep,' said the anaesthetist, 'and look!' she showed me this machine, the answer to the question of why she had put ECG pads across my forehead, 'it's something we are trialling...'
Not on me I wanted to say, I didn't sign up for a trial!
'This shows your brain waves,' she said, waving at the screen, 'with it, we can be sure to give you exactly the right amount of anaesthetic. Young people need more, older people need less. We can create a bespoke service, just right for each person. Quite a few of my colleagues don't approve. They call it witchcraft,' she chuckled while I wondered if my face looked as dismayed as I felt, 'but it's the future!'
I was not out as instantly as I prefer, it took a few moments. Some ghastly head-scenarios vanished completely, and instead I was reassuring people (not the people in the room of course) that I was a passerine bird and would be back if they liked/ not if they didn't. Then I went away and later I was back. Nothing like as groggy as I had been the other times, ready and packed to go home before the necessary post-op hours were up. The nurses fortified me with water, juice, tea, sandwiches, biscuits and morphine. All OK, though this wound is more painful again. A few weird waves of nausea, but that's all.
The thing I missed most from last time was that strange choir singing on my way to the theatre; but last night's dreams made up for it all. These were full of music including my own. For some reason I started singing, and singing well too, warbling away complete with occasional jaw-waggle. I couldn't work out if my voice was sweet or not, but I was definitely hitting the right notes. Before dawn today I woke to hear one beautiful note on repeat outside, all the jackdaws and crows and gulls silent in its presence. My phone was nearby, I could have reached out to try and identify the bird with my trusty Merlin, but instead I just lay there and went back to sleep.
Note to self: If reincarnation turns out to be real, on no account am I going back to Renaissance Europe. Enough already! Instead, best bear straight towards 1920s Paris and sing and play like a passerine bird until 1940, when it's time to head for the States.
We've been invited to a Halloween party tonight, I have a tentacle dress to wear! But I just don't think I can do it. I will try to persuade R to go without me. At least one of us deserves a break.
'I don't like needles either,' said the anaesthetist.
'I don't like needles either,' said the nurse.
Yes, solidarity and all that, well done, came the voice in my head, either of you got a history of going into shock when injected? Or having a panic attack that results on trays full of stuff and large pieces of equipment being knocked away/ kicked across the room? Because if that's OK, come on and let the good times roll! They applied lots of emla cream instead, taped it over the back of the hand. The result was that the cannula didn't hurt as much but then a rather unpleasant pain started spreading. I was coughing, and felt nauseous.
'Breath deep,' said the anaesthetist, 'and look!' she showed me this machine, the answer to the question of why she had put ECG pads across my forehead, 'it's something we are trialling...'
Not on me I wanted to say, I didn't sign up for a trial!
'This shows your brain waves,' she said, waving at the screen, 'with it, we can be sure to give you exactly the right amount of anaesthetic. Young people need more, older people need less. We can create a bespoke service, just right for each person. Quite a few of my colleagues don't approve. They call it witchcraft,' she chuckled while I wondered if my face looked as dismayed as I felt, 'but it's the future!'
I was not out as instantly as I prefer, it took a few moments. Some ghastly head-scenarios vanished completely, and instead I was reassuring people (not the people in the room of course) that I was a passerine bird and would be back if they liked/ not if they didn't. Then I went away and later I was back. Nothing like as groggy as I had been the other times, ready and packed to go home before the necessary post-op hours were up. The nurses fortified me with water, juice, tea, sandwiches, biscuits and morphine. All OK, though this wound is more painful again. A few weird waves of nausea, but that's all.
The thing I missed most from last time was that strange choir singing on my way to the theatre; but last night's dreams made up for it all. These were full of music including my own. For some reason I started singing, and singing well too, warbling away complete with occasional jaw-waggle. I couldn't work out if my voice was sweet or not, but I was definitely hitting the right notes. Before dawn today I woke to hear one beautiful note on repeat outside, all the jackdaws and crows and gulls silent in its presence. My phone was nearby, I could have reached out to try and identify the bird with my trusty Merlin, but instead I just lay there and went back to sleep.
Note to self: If reincarnation turns out to be real, on no account am I going back to Renaissance Europe. Enough already! Instead, best bear straight towards 1920s Paris and sing and play like a passerine bird until 1940, when it's time to head for the States.
We've been invited to a Halloween party tonight, I have a tentacle dress to wear! But I just don't think I can do it. I will try to persuade R to go without me. At least one of us deserves a break.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2024-11-02 01:37 pm (UTC)Now it's behind you!!!
no subject
Date: 2024-11-02 03:49 pm (UTC)Well, at least you got to be a bird for a bit? And that's over now.
no subject
Date: 2024-11-03 08:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-11-03 08:03 am (UTC)And yes, all done. I have to wait for a couple of weeks while they check they've got it all, but fingers crossed.