IN THE OPERATING ROOM, IN THE SAME THROES OF WAITING by Zymon Arvindale R. Dykee
I
had my appendectomy on May 27, 2021. It was the first surgery I had to undergo, so you could imagine how fearful I was. Fearful not only of the post-op complications I could suffer but of the financial burden that would likewise follow. It was almost noontime when I was escorted by three nurse assistants from my room on the sixth floor of the hospital to the operating room on the ground floor. I was expecting that my father would tag along and be by my side throughout the operation. But hospital protocols as well as pandemic-related restrictions forced him to stay and wait in our room. So I went out, aided by the nurse assistants, first on a wheelchair and then on a gurney, to the operating room, where they left me all by myself. I lied on the gurney while staring at the bright white ceiling. When I had the guts to slightly shrug off my gnawing apprehension, I examined the room. It was spacious. Every counter was meters away from me. At the center of the room was the bed on which I would eventually lie and have my distended appendix removed. That bed was right beside me. Hanging on top of it was a huge lamp. I HINTAYAN
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