Molar Madness: D-Day

Bangkok, Thailand

It became real when I lay down on the stretcher to be wheeled to pre-op.

Prior to that, admission to Bunrungrad Hospital was like checking into a hotel, albeit one that checked your vital signs.

But, as the orderly pushed me down the hallway, it hit me that, within the hour, I would in the operating room.

* * *

There was a blackout while I waited in pre-op. The hospital's back-up generators kicked in immediately. Still.

***

The anesthesiologist asked me a few questions. I answered.

She gave me a consent form. It warned about potential side effects, including "dreams or memories of intra-operative events." I signed.

***

I was wheeled into the OR. Massive round lights were attached to the ceiling by robotic arms. The room was larger than the ORs on television shows.

I moved from the stretcher to the operating table. I started to feel the anesthetic kick in. "It's working," I said.

The next thing I knew, I was struggling to regain consciousness. Dr. Narong was standing next to my bed grinning. "Welcome back," he said.

It was over.