All three of us had been fasting since morning and we were hungry. My turn would be at around three. I was tired and quite numb by the time a nurse call my name. We walked to surgery and she told me to lie down on a bed with wheels. A male nurse pushed the bed into anesthetics bay. The anesthetist greeted me and introduced me to his assistants. There must have been about four of them, walking in and out of the room. The doctor inserted a needle into my vein and chatted with me and his assistant. He told me that he was going to Jakarta in two days for a conference. I was going to ask him “Are you sure?” because I know there was a big flood there at the moment. My home and my friends’ home had been submerged. But he was chatting with his assistant about the way anesthetists were trained in Indonesia and my surgeon just came in so I didn’t ask him.

A few minutes later I was wheeled into the operating theatre. They put a metal plank under my bed sheet and pulled the sheet, and me, onto the operating bed. An assistant put an oxygen mask over my nose. The anesthetist released the knock-out liquid into my hand. I felt a burning sensation creeping up my arm. I was worried. What if it burned through my whole body? One, two, three… “Wake up. It’s over now. You’re in recovery.” I was given some food. I changed into my own clothes. The nurse took out the needle and cut out the labels. My sister-in-law came and we went home.