Surfacing

"Disenchantment is the blessing of becoming yourself" - Rebecca Solnit, The Faraway Nearby

If being under anesthesia is like being enchanted, then coming out of it is becoming disenchanted. It feels like surfacing - coming up from a deep dark place into the air, light, and memory again. When I first surfaced after surgery, I was still intubated and it felt awful. There were people beside me, and I heard a voice say "Heidi, we know it is uncomfortable and we are working on it."  Then I slid under again.

I surfaced again briefly while still intubated. The next time, the tube was gone. I felt I was in an enormous room. I could hear voices. I have no recollection of Mr. R, his mom, my sister or Carmen entering the room. I do remember each of them coming to the bed and talking to me. At this point I had a mask on, like a fighter pilot mask. I couldn't get my voice to be loud enough to be heard through the mask. I remember wanting to ask Mr R, "Replacement or repair?"  He finally told me that the surgical team was able to repair the aneurysm, which was a relief.

The moments of surfacing became longer. My strongest memory is of the voices and the presence of people at my bedside and responding to them by wiggling my eyebrows. I also figured out how to make sounds with the mask by moving my face. At some point the mask was gone and I was just on oxygen through a cannula. I was able to see that I wasn't in the middle of an airplane hanger.  I remember the nurse telling me that she was giving me dilaudid for the pain. I had to stand up. I moved to the recliner but don't remember moving there.

Disenchantment is a strange and wonderful thing. Coming out of the anesthesia takes several hours. The memories are disjointed and strange. Throughout it all is a sense of moving forward, becoming more substantial, becoming myself.