TO THE MOON AND BACK

i'm sitting in front of the doctor and the doctor very seriously explains to my parents that a surgery must be done to remove my thyroid gland. i try to look serious and frightened just in case people around me think that i'm mad to be excited and happy to have my throat cut. as time goes by i find it difficult to put on an act and be myself. my parents think i'm trying to be brave and indifferent to the expected pain. (sigh! when will they ever inderstand me)
finally the surgery day arrives and i'm lying on the "trolley" to be rolled to the operation theatre. my mum has tears in her eyes and my big boss(father) kisses me on my forehead (the first time i remember boss kissing me). a few of my close relatives had come to see me like as if i was a dead body or something from the mortuary. on the whole i thought everybody was over reacting.
in the room opposite operation theatre i get down from the trolley and have an interview with the anaesthetist. i then get on the trolley and lie down wondering why they had to roll me all the way to the operation theatre when i could've simply walked to the theatre (hhmmmm, maybe they wanted to convince my parents that they were providing quality service).
i'm then rolled into the main room where the surgery is conducted. i see four green people with masks and everything (hey, friendly green aliens). among them i recognise the friendly anesthetist and give her a drowsy smile........
everthing is the same, only thing my lids feel like iron. i hear everything the doctors are talking about-music, films, hot gossips,etc...after a few mins i realise that they've already started cutting my throat and i start having a slight burning sensation which progressively increases. hey, din't my parents say i wouldn't be FEELING anything...that i would be TOTALLY unconscious? BY GOD!! they've got it all wrong!!i'm NOT unconscious.........

i wake up to a slap on my cheek and try to open my eyes..."what's your name?"....."huh?"...."what's your name?"..."RENI, like duh!"....surely my name is being written in the book of life at the moment....

i wake up (again) and i'm connected to tubes all round me (two from my chest and one from my throat to collect the blood oozing from the incision and another tube on my hand connected to the liquid glucose drip). i look down at myself and grimly think that i should've waxed my legs. all thoughts of looking elegant vanishes when the drug's effect wanes and the pain increases....well, so much for a great experience...