I have never liked the idea of being unconscious.

That statement makes me wonder if anyone DOES like being unconscious.
But in all seriousness... the concept of unconsciousness drives me nuts. It makes me fear I'm going to vanish into thin air.

When I was a child... I hated the idea of going to sleep because I lost myself in sleep. I had no control. And I was kinda *not there*. All those hours would go by... and I would not remember them.

I really felt I traveled away from myself when I slept. Some of my dreams... I felt I was not really just imagining something, but leaving my body behind and being somewhere else.

As for that...

The "Mickey Mouse" gas at the Dentist's office. It was the mild anesthetic they used to put you down for dental work.
I had it used on me when I got a couple fillings a couple times as a kid.
I hated it.
I hated falling into not-thereness... and coming back and realizing a few hours had been just... gone.

For that matter, I hated waking up somewhere other than where I fell asleep.

Did I really exist during that time?

This lead to fear of going under in general.
If I needed a procedure but it meant I'd have to be sedated... well... I'd rather not have the procedure.

This changed the day my gall bladder died for good.

I went into the hospital, Brookwood emergency room... and the doctor looked at me after a few tests and said "Normally your toxicity levels should come up around 214 (she used some unit of measure I don't recall). Yours are over 13 THOUSAND." She paused a moment and handed off a clipboard to a nurse or orderly or some such. "I have no idea how you are conscious with the pain you must be in. I'm going to give you 100 miligrams of Demerall (sp?) and we'll go from there. Alright?" I nodded, giddy with the idea of pain relief... and then fell into oblivion as the pain meds took my mind from the world.

Those days were rough. I would wake... see Anna, worry about her... wonder how things were with her... ask her about how she and my little one were doing (Rune stayed some with her grandma during this  and visited us a little). I would start to try to entertain Anna... concerned for her being bored and alone during this whole time... and then I'd get in pain again. I'd try to eat... I'd try soooo hard to put off the pain meds... but I was in pain like nothing I'd ever known. I would finally give in, cry an apology out to my mate... then ask for the next round of meds. And I'd go down again.

5 days in the hospital. I recalled only a few hours of that time. I was out for most of it.

This is a TERRIFYING concept to me.

The worst was the day they took me in for the endoscopy they had to do before they could do the gall bladder removal surgery. They had to clear a blockage in the bile duct before they could remove the gall bladder. So they went down my throat with a tube and did that.

I remember going under.

I told the nurse I was afraid. I told her I had never done well with sedation meds and had always had a hard time "going under" and that I was equally terrified that I would either not go under all the way and would feel everything, or that I'd die from going too far under.

She assured me of her experience... gave me what comforts she could, and then put me under quickly. I remember them telling me to take a deep breath and count 10 then a deep breath for 9, then 8... then 7... then 6. I was holding Anna's hand tightly. I was scared... I tried to relax. I said "I love you" ... and then it grew black before I could get to 5.

I remember the feeling of movement. Just that. I don't recall any voices or anything... Just movement... as the orderlies picked me up and moved me from a bed to a gurney or vice versa... I'm not sure.
I remember vaguely worrying about how heavy I was... and felt myself laying there on the flat bed.

I woke and found I was alone.
I was in a small area that was concealed by a hanging sheet.
I had wires attached to me, electrodes, tubes, an IV... a breathing tube at my nose... a tube down my throat... tubes all over the place.

I came to all hazily and foggily and stared around the lonely, small, well-lit space. I heard beeping machines, voices out beyond my immediate area in a very hazy sort of way... The sound was muffled by sedation. It was like I was hearing through glass or under water.

I started yelling. Begging for my Anna... begging for ANYONE to come... I was afraid. I was alone.

I remember pulling an electrode pad off my chest then starting to tear at the tubes and wires...
I felt like I'd just awakened from the Matrix or some other kind of sci-fi scary shit. :)

The nurse rushed in between the hanging sheets and put a hand on my hand, stopping me from tearing off another electrode and assured me I was safe. She told me Anna was waiting on me and I was about to go see her, just to wait a moment longer while she checked on me. I was awake for longer at this stretch than any other during the hospital stay. I felt... not nearly as bad as I had before. Pain was still an issue, but it had become less intense than before.

She checked my vitals and did some other stuff I didn't pay much attention to... then she assured me I could see Anna. I remember Anna touching my hand and smiling at me when they finally let her in... but she hadn't been let in. I'd been moved and had dozed somewhere between. I freaked at that a little. I had been in one place then I was in another... but Anna was there. I held her hand. So grateful to have her near me.

Then sleep again.

And I woke... back in the hospital room.
I was hungry.
I asked for food.
There was a salad.
I had one and ate it soooo happily.

Then I remember picking off most of the strips of grilled chicken and setting them aside, assuring Anna I didn't want them... because I knew, that way, she'd have something to snack on over the late night as she'd related to me at some point that they had almost nothing for her to eat when she got hungry at night (as we are night owls and this was just not easy on her...) ...

I remember the pain getting bad again only some serious while later... but I'd been soooo exhausted that I ended up sleeping anyway. Tired... sedated... not sure. But I didn't stay awake particularly longer that night.

Next day was surgery. I remember NOTHING of this one.
Not even the going under.

I think I was so sedated and exhausted from the day before that I just stayed in a haze until I went under again.
Then I woke up in the hospital room... no longer a gall-bladder owning mammal.

I had no memory of even being on a gurney or a surgery room this time. I had been asleep in the hospital room, then I woke up there again but had been all the way through surgery and never knew.

I felt... So... immensely good.

It was the absence of pain so severe and intense I couldn't imagine anything would ever be worse.

One might not think that such a pain would stand out so much once gone... when one had been sedated during the time when it left.

This is not true.

Think of it... like... COLD.

Cold is the absence of heat. Scientifically, the "Cold" does not exist. It is, in fact, the lack of heat that makes us feel "Cold" and the cold itself is nothing more than a description of that lack.

This feeling I had... similarly... was the lack of SEVERE PAIN.

And it was tangible.
And it was powerful to me.

Just as one can be severely cold and very much be aware that they are cold...
I was SEVERELY NOT-IN-PAIN!!!! And I was acutely aware of the lack of said pain.

I remember that dawning on me... and I cried.
It was so... good.

I pulled up my hospital gown and gazed down at the small bandages.
Laproscopic surgery doesn't leave much in way of impressive battle scars. They'd have been less even if I hadn't turned out to be allergic to surgical tape. :)

I remember they gave me a med for nausea and a med for pain. The med for nausea was... awesome.
It was a little tablet that dissolved on the tongue that tasted just like a combination of a latex glove and cotton candy. It was FASCINATING to me. I loved the flavor of it and the smell of it.
I had use for two of them before I was fine. So I put the press pack in my medical cabinet to use the rest occasionally when really bad nausea struck me.

Yes, I do that. I know you're not supposed to... but if I have a useful med and am aware of its use and dosage and effects... I may keep remains from a prescription for a while to use for another instance of such an issue if I need it. I'm poor. I can't afford to waste those things.

I did it with my pain meds too. They were Loratabs... I didn't need them. After the horrible severity of pain I'd been in before with a failed gall bladder and acute pancreatitis... a little soreness from surgery was NOTHING to me. I didn't take more than 2 of them. The rest filled out a year or so of usage for serious pain relief once in a while when I had some really bad headache or some such.

I remember the flavor of that nausea medicine SO well tho. It is an awesome scent and flavor...
I wish I could share it somehow.

All in all ... Not remembering the surgery part at all has always freaked me out.
And the part I DID remember from the endoscopy REALLY freaked me out.

I remember not remembering.
I remember knowing nothing ... for days.

And that is not a pleasant memory to say the least.