There were only three of us in the PACU for ECT this morning. I was second in line. It has that industrialized feel--the doctor rolling the machine around, bed to bed.
Every time I go under, I wonder if I'm going to wake up again.
I'm sure the anesthesiologists (resident and attending) are bored with the assignment. It's simple, routine. There are heart monitors, cuffs for the blood pressure. You breathe into a mask. Perfectly safe.
Still, I always ponder if these will be my last moments on earth, drugged, surrounded by doctors in some warehouse at Stanford.
They put me down, but couldn't bring me back up.
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