Hospitals are terrifying.

I have been fortunate to not have to spend any time in one. My brother has been the only one of my mother’s kids that has had to – my sister and I never have.

Until this weekend.

My sister went in to Emergency for abdominal pain, and wound up having her appendix removed.

Uh, what?!

The sheer randomness of the situation just blew my mind. And even though I actually do sympathize with her situation – and I don’t sympathize with anyone – I’m eternally grateful that it’s not me in that position.

I will be brutally honest – the thought of being put under anesthetic scares me more than anything. There’s always the risk that something will go wrong, aside from the whole potentially not waking up again part, but they could attach another arm to your forehead and you wouldn’t be able to stop them!

Okay, that might be a stretch, but I never said it was a rational fear.

My sister will disagree with me on the previous statement that I’ve never had surgery, as the conversation went in her hospital room.

“I’m the only one of mom’s kids that hasn’t had real surgery, knock on wood,” said I.

“Yes you have, you had your wisdom teeth surgically removed,” said she.

“That doesn’t count, it wasn’t in a hospital – it was in an office or something,” said I.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” said she.

Fine, I will!

I had my wisdom teeth removed via a dental surgeon, because my family dentist knew that I strongly disliked coming to see him, even though he was a nice man, so to make my life easier he booked me in to have surgery done.

Despite being calmly talked though the procedure by a surgeon that bore a striking resemblance to Val Kilmer before he got fat, once they called my name to go down the hall and lay on a table and get gassed, I started bawling like a baby and almost ran back down the hallway and out the door. I actually stopped walking and didn’t want to go into the room.

Keep in mind, I wasn’t a little kid – I was 20.

Now there are all kinds of theories out there that say redheads need more anesthesia than people with different hair colours. I don’t know if the dental surgeon figured that, because it took me way longer to come out of the anesthetic than it should have. Maybe it was because it was my first time? I don’t know.

It really is like they say in the movies and TV – you start to go under and then you’re waking up. No dreaming, now weird thoughts or anything, just out and back up again. Does it shut down your brain with the exception of basic functions like breathing and circulation and whatnot?

Either way, it was a thoroughly unpleasant experience and not one I care to repeat any time soon.

I’ve never spent any time, other than being born, in a hospital and I really don’t want to before I’m in my golden years. Instead I’ll go see my sister and bring her books and share tales of the outside world. At least it’s air conditioned where she is.