Let's Do This

 213.

Having gone through the standard operating pre-procedures, I am wheeled down the hall and into the operating arena. I am met there by Dr. Sandhi and his team, consisting of maybe eight specialists and a few, what I assume are assistant researchers, interns and med students. They all seem to be in jovial moods as far as I can tell reading facial and body language from behind masks and inside aquamarine gowns. I, on the other hand, am a bit nervous.

Nervous for what I consider to be a pair of solid and somewhat intertwined reasons.

The first being a frightening thought I considered on the slow ride down the corridor. What if this is all a set up? What if The Neurologist is working with the group responsible for my attempted assassination, Saunders' hit and the kidnapping of The Queen? A clever plant at the Hospital and as we have had insufficient time to investigate and validate her story on Mr. 38, Dr. Sanghi and the very clinic I amount to submit to general anesthesia and an experimental surgical procedure, who is to argue that a perfect storm of loss of patient would NOT serve the dual purpose of finishing the assassination task while providing a cover of plausible medical deniability? I struggle with the defense, finally taking refuge in my judgement of character and dismiss the charges as an over-reaction to an anxious state of mild paranoia.

The second reason, tossing the mild paranoia with a pinch of apprehension, is that I am very familiar with the sedative that will be administered for the procedure. Propofol is as amazing as it is frightening. My experience, gained while undergoing several cardioversion procedures in the attempt to correct a sick-sinus syndrome, in my case chronic atrial fibrillation, were profound. I soon learned, as with many things, that the best way to enter the dark state of total sedation nothingness is to relax and try not to fight the hopeless battle of drug vs will. I have tried and lost, learning through the drama that the last thoughts that one takes into the void are the ones that one comes out with - only amplified a thousandfold. I remember this as I try to move my consciousness from the negative of The Neurologist being a jihad seeking terrorist orchestrating a sinister plot to finish the dirty deed of my demise, to the positive of her actually providing a valuable service to our team - at a time we need it most.

I see the faces of the medical team all looking down at me. Dr. Sandhi asks if I am ready. I look deep into their eyes for last second validation and then to the camera attached to a wall, its red tally light blinking in 4/4 time. I know who is watching. I speak to the camera.

"Let's do this."