He looked like Jesse Williams if he were drawn by a talented fifth grader: the left eye was, medically speaking, an inch lower than the right and he had a huge radial scar around his hairline dragging his face down on that same left. A kintsugi face if ever there was one. I was wheeled into the operating room from the holding pens: sectioned off areas with IKEA curtain vibes and one foot clearance from the floor. I was glad to hear everything going on with the gentleman getting his first colonoscopy at 76. I was pushed past the glass tank of waiting spouses and outpatient wait-ers, like grey and tan fish in a hospital aquarium that will never make eye contact. They got wheelchairs. I got a gurney and my 60’s mod orange Ketamine scepter that rolled right alongside me. Later, bitches.
In the operating room, the anesthesiologist told the nurse where to wheel me. 5 people came in all in scrubs and did computer things and I just noticed how nice the organized surgery tools looked. Brother Labels on “7in Scalpel” and “Glass Shard”. I was excited for my knockout. Anesthesiologist Man moved my K-Bae over and I saw that he was covered in huge birthmarks all over his body; coin-sized flat, dark marks. I had so many questions. But instead I just said: “please keep the teeth in, I’m still working on ‘em.” Chuckles and I probably said something off the cuff again and found a light fixture bolt in the ceiling to look at. Only a few minutes now, but I was so excited. An oxygen mask was placed on my face; he hooked up the flush for my IV.
“Is it time?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Anesthesiologist Man said.
I looked at the bolt and breathed and I swear I was so calm… then it came. I didn’t fight it. So I relaxed and saw green stars sort of tracing the veins in my eyes around the bolt and then that great fade… to peace? Any floating out there in my cerebral cortex? Is it… is it… is..
“ARE we leaving the CLUB?!” Suddenly, my girls were all around me, moving me out of the club to another IKEA-vibe after party. Were we kicked out!?
The nurses wheeled me to the recovery room, laughing. Guess my club nights feature knockouts.
littlestorms 