Yesterday I had a medical procedure which required anesthesia. It is a repeatable offense, so I’m used to it by now. But each time it occurs I find myself thinking about the sensation of it…or, to be honest, the lack of sensation.
An invention of the nineteenth century, anesthesia is the creation of artificial unconsciousness. Through the use of chemicals, a patient is placed in that induced state of unconsciousness for a specific period of time, during which uncomfortable procedures can be accomplished without the sensation of pain or discomfort.
The key word for my post today is “for a specific period of time.” My limited understanding of the process is that by the regulated use of various amounts of the chemical the doctor can determine how long a patient will be unavailable for interaction. It is a skill to be respected. If an inappropriate amount of the chemical is administered, two things can happen:
- the patient can arouse prematurely
- the patient can be permanently dispatched
Fortunately, in today’s medical world, neither of these is a common experience.
The feature which amazes me is that the sensation of anesthesia is instant. By that I mean that when the drug is introduced into my arm, I am immediately under sedation. Evidently I have a low threshold for anesthesia. I’m gone quickly. But then the other feature occurs. I awaken, and it seems as if no time has transpired. Unlike sleep, in which I am conscious of time passing, that doesn’t occur under anesthesia. The whole thing is momentary. And my knowledge of what occurred during anesthesia is absolutely nil. I mean nil. I don’t remember anything.
The humorous part of this is that when the doctor talks with me after the procedure to describe the results, he may as well be speaking to the wall. For a period of time after I’m supposedly “awake”…I’m not. It takes me forever to come out of the anesthesia. I’ve learned to be sure that the doctor includes my wife in the conversation, or else the information is lost forever.
Once, several years ago, the doctor forgot to tell me that I would have continuing limitation on my abilities. I went home, had something to eat, got in the car and went back to work. I hope I didn’t have anything serious taking place that day, because I really “wasn’t there.” When the doctor called the house to check in on my and found I was at work, he dispatched my wife to bring me home immediately. Who knows what I said or did during that hour or so!
On a theological note: I wonder if this is what death feels like. There is a nothingness to that period during anesthesia. Not only no pain, but no joy, no emotion, no relationship…just nothing. That’s not very consistent with most theological perspectives, but I have to wonder. I’m not ready to check it out right away, and…to be honest…if I’m right, there will be no period of affirmation. How’s this for a dark series of thoughts at the beginning of what is supposed to be a beautiful day. Just wondering. Don’t hold me to it down the road.
I experience no “hang-over” to anesthesia so I’m fine today. Ready to take on the world. But the next time I have a procedure…and there will be a next time…I suspect I’ll have the same experience and the same questions.
Photo credit: needle
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thank you for the comment. hope you’ll stay with me.
Keep up the good work, I like your writing.