Reflections: 10 The Drug Doctor My Anesthesiologist

2 June 2017 07:00 a.m.

 I was told prior to the operation that there will be 10 health care professionals in surgery at any one time. I was able to see some. They introduced themselves. The balance were beyond my sightline. (And by design, so were all of the instruments that the team would be using.) I have difficulty remembering any of their faces, except for my doctor, my surgeon who gave me a thumb up after I gave him one just prior to being put to sleep. 

 The one person who I shall never forget is the drug doctor, my anesthesiologist. Without realizing it at the time this health care professional became my lifeline, my human contact. She was the closest to me just prior to going under the influence of the administered drugs that put me to sleep for 10 hours. Our face-to-face encounter was just so meaningful.

 We first met in pre-op. The first thing I noticed about her was her welcoming personality. She asked me many questions to clarified in her mind points contained in my file. 

“What is your name?” I was asked more than once. I guess they want to make sure that they have the right person. Or, perhaps to see that I was cognizant enough to answer more complex questions.  

She explained what was happening and what was about to happen (in very general terms). Her professionalism and particularly her humanism enveloped me with a degree of calmness and warmth that I was subconsciously and consciously seeking. 

 When it became time to move from pre-op to the operating room, my anesthesiologist continued to speak to me in a calm voice. At that particular point, I am afraid I was not much of a conversationalist. That didn’t matter. She knew exactly what to say and talked in such a reassuring and positive way. 

 Once situated in the operating room, by design, you don’t get a lot of time to process and understand what you are seeing. All that I clearly remember is the size of the two lights. They were off, of course, but they were huge. Both appeared to be the length of the doors leading into the room. I believe that they don’t want you to rationalize your environment. Rationalization would bring perhaps fear, uneasiness and have you uncomfortable; troubling and therefore unwelcome thoughts. My medical team thought through the protocol very carefully.

 “What is your name?” I was asked again.

 While I was being moved from the gurney to the operating table, my anesthesiologist talked to me. Most important she made eye contact throughout our conversation. 

 Through all of that, I was connected to another human being. I was not alone. I was beginning to discover that you are never alone. The bond that my anesthesiologist created was so needed and welcome.

 I shall never forget her.