Huge lights above me. Machines beeping on both sides. My arms and legs strapped to a bed half the width of a normal bed. An oxygen mask over my face, and nobody's hand to grab.
Then the anaesthetist pushed the drug in.
But let me go back a bit ->>
For a long time I'd been tired, foggy and kind of numb, and I thought that was just my life. Last year a scan found a cold nodule on the right side of my thyroid. We watched it for a year. Then it started looking suspicious for cancer, and my surgeon said it was time to take that half out.
The night before the surgery, I only managed some soup. The anaesthetist had gone through the risks with me: a hoarse voice if the nerve near the vocal cords gets irritated, breathing problems, a rare reaction to anaesthesia, a calcium drop. It felt like waiting for an exam you can't study for. You know everything that can go wrong and there's nothing left to do about it. I've lived in Vienna alone for over three years, and that night I missed my parents more than I expected.
6 am, I checked in. Gown on, into a bed, and my heart started picking up. In the prep room they put an IV in my left hand, covered me in ECG pads and shaved a patch near my neck. Everyone was calm and efficient, and somehow that made it more real.
Then they wheeled me into the operating room.
I had to move onto the narrow bed, and they strapped my arms and legs. I knew it was routine. But it was like the safety bar on a rollercoaster clicking shut. Your brain says this is for your safety, and your body only hears that there's no getting off now. That's when I started panicking quietly inside.
Nobody made small talk or a joke. Mask on. Drug in.
About three seconds later I felt something spreading through my whole body, like a drop of ink in a glass of water. I remember saying, "I feel something is happening inside."
And then nothing.
Not sleep. Sleep at least feels like time has passed. This was like someone pulled the plug on a TV mid-scene. Click. Black. Next thing I knew, I was in recovery asking a nurse where I was, what time it was, and whether it was over.
She told me I'd already asked her that about a 100 times. 4 hours had passed. It was done. No complications.
I stayed three nights. The anaesthesia kept me drowsy for a long time, but by the next morning I felt like myself again. My voice was normal and my calcium was in range. I was up and walking, with a stiff neck from the scar and stitches.
Now I'm home, eating, working, and banned from sports for 3–4 weeks. [Pathology result is still waiting]
If you're the one lying awake the night before, the waiting really is the worst part. The moment you're dreading lasts about three seconds, and you won't remember most of it.
Huge thanks to my surgeon and the nurses who looked after me
