There were lots of people, far more than you’d think the room would hold. They were all gowned up and protected, although I suppose it was me they were protecting, not themselves. There were two colours of surgical gloves, purple and dark aqua Most people had the purple and just two had the aqua. Funny what you notice at times like that, isn’t it. I wondered if they had run out part the way through scrubbing up or if the colours designated jobs maybe.
I heard the beeping and the clatter of instruments on kidney trays. Voices raised and instructions shouted one by one, never across each other. He wore purple gloves, I remember that. Swabs bright with my blood dabbed in and out of my body and were discarded into a pile growing at an alarming rate. That must be why the beeps and the shouting.
I couldn’t feel anything, not even as the blade sliced and the fingers felt inside me. I could see an aqua hand inside my open belly holding closed a wound that pumped blood out, covering the gloves in slick red. More swabbing out and aqua tightened the grip, although I still felt nothing. Not cold or hot or pain or fear or excitement.
Then I started to rise up to the ceiling, like I was floating round in the air. I don’t know how it could be so, but I was. I looked down and watched the whole scene playing out below me like it was on television and I was sat on my sofa. And I could see things from up here you would never expect to see too. I could see deep into the ventilation system although I couldn’t feel the air on my face. I could see what the ceiling was made of. Just ceiling, really. And I could see these two shapes up on the top of the shelves, on white card. One was a red square, the other a blue triangle.
And next I started to drift back into my body. The beeping sounds became less frantic. The shouting stopped and became speaking. Traces of red were mopped up instead of soaking the material. I could sense calm returning and then it all started to go dark, like I was falling asleep. I was happy, not scared. Not at any point. Oh yes, and the last thing I remember was hearing music, classical music. Vivaldi I think it was but I’m not sure which season.
I suppose you’re going to tell me I dreamt it all, aren’t you.
I heard the beeping and the clatter of instruments on kidney trays. Voices raised and instructions shouted one by one, never across each other. He wore purple gloves, I remember that. Swabs bright with my blood dabbed in and out of my body and were discarded into a pile growing at an alarming rate. That must be why the beeps and the shouting.
I couldn’t feel anything, not even as the blade sliced and the fingers felt inside me. I could see an aqua hand inside my open belly holding closed a wound that pumped blood out, covering the gloves in slick red. More swabbing out and aqua tightened the grip, although I still felt nothing. Not cold or hot or pain or fear or excitement.
Then I started to rise up to the ceiling, like I was floating round in the air. I don’t know how it could be so, but I was. I looked down and watched the whole scene playing out below me like it was on television and I was sat on my sofa. And I could see things from up here you would never expect to see too. I could see deep into the ventilation system although I couldn’t feel the air on my face. I could see what the ceiling was made of. Just ceiling, really. And I could see these two shapes up on the top of the shelves, on white card. One was a red square, the other a blue triangle.
And next I started to drift back into my body. The beeping sounds became less frantic. The shouting stopped and became speaking. Traces of red were mopped up instead of soaking the material. I could sense calm returning and then it all started to go dark, like I was falling asleep. I was happy, not scared. Not at any point. Oh yes, and the last thing I remember was hearing music, classical music. Vivaldi I think it was but I’m not sure which season.
I suppose you’re going to tell me I dreamt it all, aren’t you.
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