spirit

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I could hear the machines in the surgical room beep away.

There were doctors all around me.

I was laying in a surgical bed, staring at the ceiling. The pain in the pit of my stomach hasn't gone away yet, and I'm truly terrified.

Seeing the look of nervousness on my face, the nurse at the head of the bed assured me that everything was going to be okay.

"Imogen, what we're going to be doing here is a simple operation. We're going in and out, no funny business. I'm sure you'll be fine. It won't even be twenty minutes." Dr. Hastings told me and I immediately felt better.

"Are you ready?" The same nurse asked me while tucking a piece of my hair under a hair cap.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"That's the spirit." She told me with a smile.

"I'm going to turn the anesthesia on, okay?" She asked, and I nodded my head.

I stared at the ceiling again and started counting up from 100.

Once I hit 43, my eyelids began feeling heavy. By 67, I was out.

Here goes nothing.