I’ve always thought of operating rooms as sterile environments.
They are supposed to be super clean to prevent infections and keep cool the staff who are dressed in layers of clothing and drapes — again to create a sterile environment.
There is cool equipment anesthesia has to aid in patients sleeping and not remembering what happens in the confines of the operating room.
I’ve recently had the pleasure of visiting an operating room twice in two weeks. It was very much as described, much like we all see in the movies. The patient is in the center with staff all around. Lights and equipment hang from the ceiling.
It looks like the tentacles of an octopus swallowing it all up.
The patient is flat on a gurney.
The first go-round REM is playing. The surgeon speaks to the group briefly as he works.
The eye doctor is looking down a scope into the patient’s eye, carefully making incisions and snips. It is all shown on a video screen nearby allowing staff to anticipate the next move of the surgeon’s hands.
He is steadily at work asking for tools and adjustments from time to time.
Minutes later he pulls the drape from the patient who is quickly wheeled to recovery and home.
I returned to the operating room two weeks later.
It was the same eye doctor and the setup in the operating room was the same. The procedure was very similar, only it was the left eye this time. You could see movement around the eye. There were lights moving, slight tugs.
The difference was in the music. There was Boston and Pink Floyd piped into the speakers. There was discussion among the staff about Matthew Perry’s book and his death. Once again a few minutes later the patient was wheeled out to recovery and soon headed home.
But I was amazed I remembered it all because I was that patient on the gurney.
The anesthesiologist said I would be given conscious sedation. I just didn’t think I would see and hear everything.
I remember hearing “ultrasound one,” and “ultrasound two” — the only difference being the speed of the hum. It was as if the dentist changed the speeds of the drill for fixing a cavity. Only the tool was in my eye.
I saw the lights of the scope my doctor was looking through. It was through the same eye he was operating on. I remember the doctor pulling the surgical drape from me and putting the clear eye patch on.
I could now read the clock in the operating room.
The dream was amazing. I was starting to see without glasses for the first time since I was 7.
The nurse wheeled me to post op and handed me off to another nurse. Moments later I’m wheeled out to the car.
The last surgery was just over a week ago.
I still wonder if it was all a dream but quickly realize I haven't picked up my glasses since surgery. I know I will still have to wear glasses. I knew that going into the surgery.
I also knew I would be “awake” for the surgery. I just didn’t know how much I would see and hear. Isn’t modern medicine great?
Now to go find Pink Floyd’s Welcome to the Machine I heard in the operating room and see if I can recall more from the discussion just above my eye surgery.
Cliff Williams is the news editor of Tallapoosa Publishers Inc.’s Elmore County newspapers. He can be reached at cliff.williams@thewetumpkaherald.com.
