Creative Non Fiction - Surgery

They gave me a paper crown. I was no king. They gave me a gown. I was no queen. They directed me to a changing room which was no more than a closet. The gown did not glimmer or glitter, it was threadbare, yet smooth. It was blue.

They gave me a bag, and I filled it with my belongings.

I went to the tall couch. I sat for an uncertain while. They called my name with no ceremony or pomp.

A man asked me a series of questions and we had a discussion about cough syrup, neurotransmitters, and risk. I was left to sit alone, and ponder the next little maybe. The songs of an uncertain concert played in my head. I co-existed alone with my thoughts.

I heard my name again.

Another man, wearing a cap decorated with skulls and crossbones greeted me. He took me to a quiet room. The slab awaited. I shuffled, I lay, I shuffled some more. The lights were very bright.

"Something for the pain,"

"This is the part where I tell you a joke, right?"

"Then you'll get a goodnight, tell me a joke - people like to do that"

"How often do planes crash?" I asked, thinking I was so clever.

"Only once," he responded, destroying my hubris and my wit.

Then the world went black for a moment. An instant later, the world returned, and I saw a clock. I saw a nurse, and she smiled, and I was full of euphoria and pain. I wanted to embrace everyone. My jaw ached, and I was given something else for the pain. I tasted my own blood in my mouth.

The instantaneous blackness still sits with me, a sort of free trial for death; one that would return as the cannula was removed from my inner arm, and a vasovagal response took hold of my ability to perceive. For a moment, the world was full of shivers, sensory disobedience, and a whining shell shock of reality returning with sharp pain and mystery.

Remember to breathe.

Moments where so much happened - my time ceased. I enjoyed my cheerful oblivion. It was a comforting experience, to see the empty black of anesthetic, and see it as an analogue for death.

I wore the gown of a mundane survivor. I wore the paper hat of a king to be coronated. I was missing two wisdom teeth.