I arrived at the Center for Interventional Health in the early afternoon. I had been referred to the medical practice by a previous doctor, who, while seeming frustrated by my tendency not to follow doctor's orders, had insisted I see a specialist to follow up on some lab tests. I was pretty nervous; medical appointments of any kind were, well, not my favorite activity, and I tended to avoid them as much as I could.

Locking my car, I collected my coat and walked to the entrance. A sign near the large, single story building directed patients towards a small frosted-glass door in the center of the structure, so I followed the path towards it. I opened the door and found myself in a small waiting room.

The small room was quiet; a few hard chairs sat in rows near the walls, with little tables with the usual magazines in rows. Across from the doors, a frosted glass partition separated a receptionist and a large white desk from the otherwise deserted room.

I walked over to the glass as the young receptionist looked up, smiling. I found my thinking she had a nice smile; her brown hair and blue eyes contrasted with a bright white blouse, and her small helped put me a little at ease.

John Turner?" the receptionist asked, with a light accent I couldn't quite place.

"That's me," I replied, somewhat surprised that she knew who I was. "I guess I'm expected, then? I have an appointment to follow up on some test?"

"You're our last patient today; we don't like to run late. We just have a few forms for you to fill out, here." The receptionist slid me a clipboard with a huge number of papers. "It's our standard paperwork;" she said. "Your referring doctor gave us your information; you only need to sign on the end."

I made a show of skimming the first few pages, then, as most people probably tended to, skipped to the end and signed. I returned the clipboard, and the receptionist grabbed a nearby file, and stood up.

"Alright, I'll take you right back." She retrieved a short-sleeved white coat and a stethoscope, which she hung around her neck. Opening a door nearby, she invited I past the entryway.

"You'll be seeing Doctor Samantha today. I'm Robin, one of her assistants. I'll get you all prepared for her, get your vitals and so forth." I followed her past the reception desk into a wide hallway area, and Robin led me off in one direction.

"So what's the deal here?" I asked. "My physician insisted I come, but didn't explain much. What test is it that I'm here for?"

"I'll let Doctor Samantha answer your questions," Robin replied as we walked down the hall. "I'll be doing your preliminary exam, and then the Doctor will be seeing you."

"Want to take a short tour?" Robin asked. "There's too much see here at the Center before we get started, but we at least have time to see the highlights." To me, putting my potentially unpleasant exam off a bit sounded like a great idea, and I said so.

"Well, behind us is our dental practice," Robin indicated the direction opposite where they were headed. "We have many different services and specialties available to our patients." We passed a few rooms that were clearly storage, and a sign which read 'General Medicine.

"Up here are our general exam rooms, where we'll put you in a moment." Under the sign was what looked like another small reception area. At a computer desk nearby sat a tall woman, with bright green eyes, dressed in pink scrubs.

The new woman greeted them as they approached. "Hi Robin. Is this him?" Apparently everyone knew their appointments, I thought.

"It is; just giving him the tour before his exam." Robin replied.

"Make sure to show him the operating room, everyone always loves to see it," the new woman replied as we continued on. We went past the desk, and past several side rooms. Some had doors open, and I could see the various trappings of a doctor's office inside; eye charts, exam tables, white gurneys and the like.

"That's Doctor Anna." Robin explained as turned a corner in the hallway "She's a specialist and assists here occasionally. "

"She mentioned an operating room?" I asked.

"Yes; the Center has a fully equipped OR for each department. And here we are; take a look!" We now stood in front of two swinging doors made of metal and glass. I stepped close to the glass. Behind, I could see a large room with an operating table in the center. The table was partially draped with blue sheets or paper, and had both arm-rest sticking out perpendicular to the main body. I could see all sorts of machines all around the table, stands holding bags of liquid, and tubes and wires. Three large light arrays were hanging down from the ceiling above. It certainly looked like a fully equipped operating room to me.

Robin smiled. "Want to take a closer look? We really only need an exam room, but it's not like the OR is in use." She pushed open one of the doors. "It might be more interesting just to do our exam here..."

I shuddered. I was nervous enough being here, and didn't want to go in. "I don't think that's a good idea; I'm a bit of coward and would prefer the less interesting setting."

Robin looked disappointed and let the door swing closed. "Suit yourself; we'll just get you setup in an exam room then." We headed back down the hall, and through a side room, into a normal looking exam room. Robin shut the door behind us.

"You can hang your coat on the door," she indicated as she turned her attention to the file she carried. "Then take off your shirt and sit up on the gurney here."

I took off my coat, and hung it on on a hook. Feeling a little vulnerable, I took off my shirt as well, and hung it over my coat. In the corner of the exam room sat a white padded cot of some kind, which looked like it might be some sort of mobile gurney. It sat high off the ground, with its back in a seated position. I hoisted myself up and sat on the edge as instructed. My feet dangled just above the ground.

Robin opened the file on a nearby counter, and began washing her hands as she read it. Finishing, she pulled on a pair of white latex gloves. From a tray already on the counter, she took a small syringe and a vial, and turned towards me.

"Now, John, before we get started, your file says you've missed some important boosters. Before Doctor Samantha gets here, we'll get you up to date." Robin stuck the syringe in the vial, and carefully drew out a measured dose. I felt myself getting more nervous; this was a major part of doctor visits I hated, but I said nothing. Robin tapped out the air bubbles, and retrieved an alcohol swab.

"Just a little pinch, now, and then the hard part will be over," she said. I felt a cold spot as she swabbed my exposed shoulder, and I looked away. "Here we go..."

I felt a sharp stab as Robin quickly stuck in the syringe. The pain grew somewhat as she depressed the syringe. "Ow!" I said, although carefully not sounding too distressed.

"Almost there..." Robin comforted, and then she was done, and make a note in the file.

"That's it! Not so bad, was it? Let's get the rest of the preliminaries over with before Doctor Samantha is ready." I found myself somewhat relived; that wasn't bad at all.

Looking at a wall clock, she next took my wrist, and put her finger on my pulse. "We'll just count it out for a minute; the old fashion way." she said as she watched the clock for a full minute. I found myself getting a little bored, honestly.

Next, Robin retrieved a blood-pressure cuff from a mount on the wall, and the stethoscope from around her neck. "Scoot back against the backrest, and give me your arm." Robin told me. I pushed myself back against the soft back, and I let her take my left arm in her gloved hands. She wrapped the cuff above my elbow, velcroing it tight. She put her cold stethoscope on my elbow, and inflated the cuff slowly.

I could feel the beating of my heart in my arm, and felt a funny sensation as she inflated it. It felt like the pressure was traveling up my arm, into my chest and my head. "Ummm..." I said, not particularly eloquently. My arms began to tingle and I found I was dizzy.

"Ummm.. I think something's wrong." I said to Robin. I tried to sit up, but found I could hardly move; my mussels seemed weak and I couldn't find my balance.

Robin smiled. "Don't fight it." She said. "That injection works very quickly." Putting a gloved hand against my chest, she pressed me back into the white mattress.

I thought that was a very confusing thing for her to say, and her reaction confused me. But I didn't spend much time worrying about it, as the room abruptly lurched backwards and went dark.

Robin watched as John's eyes because unfocused, and slowly closed. The sedative in the "booster shot" worked very fast, but she held him down for a minute, just to make sure it had taken full effect, before deflating and removing the blood-pressure cuff. Unlocking the wheels on the gurney, she moved it away from the wall, and with a lever reclined it (and its sedated patient) flat. She folded up metal side-rails as there was a knock on the door.

"Come in, Janet!" Robin invited. The door opened to reveal another young woman, blond and in purple surgical scrubs.

"How'd it go?" The new woman, Nurse Janet, asked, as she retrieved a pair of scissors from Robin's tray.

"He didn't want to walk into the operating room on his own accord, but the 'exam' went smooth as silk. Didn't struggle at all." Robin reported, undoing John's belt. Janet began cutting off John's pants and underwear, as Robin prepared the gurney to move.

I have vague snippets for the next few minutes. Images of ceiling tiles going by as I moved down a hallway, fading out to blackness. A disconnected impression of a nurse in purple scrubs looking down at me. Movement through a set of double-doors. Female voices talking to each other, gloved hands lifting me, touching my chest, taping something there? Three uncomfortably bright lights stabbing my eyes as they fluttered closed again. An impression of a room with people in motion, busy people all around me. A rythmic beeping noise as I drifted off.

My next impression was that someone had poked me in the right arm. I opened my eyes, disoriented. It was impossibly bright. I tried to shield my eyes with a hand, but neither arm moved when I willed it, which only added to my confusion.

I was on my back, cold... naked? My head felt like it was full of gauze, and I shook my head to try to clear it. I tried to speak, to ask who was there, to ask what was going on, but my throat was impossibly dry and I only made a quiet croaking noise. What had happened? I left like I was in a hospital for some reason; had I been in an accident?

"He's waking up." said a familiar voice with a light accent. Robin's voice. My memory rushed back; I remembered the clinic, waiting for the Doctor, the injection. I turned my head to the side and opened my eyes again, and the rhythmic beeping noise in the background sped up.

I was in the operating room I'd seen earlier. I could see my right arm palm-up on the arm rest, with two black straps holding it in place, as a nurse with long white gloves taped down an IV needle she'd just inserted. Behind her, another nurse was drawing a big syringe full of liquid; both nurses wore green surgical gowns and caps, and were masked, but I recognized Robin's blue eyes when the second nurse looked at me.

I noticed I had sensors on my chest, too, and wires leading from them to a nearby display. Something squeezed my left arm. A blood pressure cuff? I turned to find that it was; there was also a sensor on a finger, and my left arm was also strapped down. Another green-gowned figure stood to my left side, with a white mask. The figure reached up and moved one of the surgical lights to shine less in my face.

"Hello, John" the new figure spoke, a female voice. "I'm Doctor Samantha. Everything is alright. You're in our operating room, and we're about to get started. Just close your eyes, and you'll just drift off to sleep." I tried to talk, to object. I wasn't supposed to be getting an operation! But I couldn't seem to make any words.

I pulled on my arms, my legs, to sit up, but my legs didn't move very far and my chest was held down, too. Only my head was free. This was very wrong! I could see I was naked, hooked up to all sorts of sensors, strapped to an operating table. I didn't want to be here, but I couldn't get free!

"It's alright John, we'll take good care of you. You won't feel a thing." Another voice spoke behind and above me, and another masked figure leaned into my view from above. Green eyes. I think it was Dr. Anne, who I'd seen earlier? "Janet, let's push some Versed; he's getting agitated."

I watched, helpless, as Robin passed the nurse I didn't know (it must be Janet) a syringe from a nearby tray. I try to say "no", to call out, but I can no more yell than get my arms free. "This will just help you relax," Robin tells me as Janet plunges the needle into a port on the IV tube and injects the contents.

Everyone goes quiet for a minute. I look around franticly; they're all watching me for the inevitable effect. I prepare to fight it, to try to stay lucid, my heart racing. But when it hits me I immediately melt. The room begins to spin, my vision softens. I still know this is wrong, but it bothers me a lot less. My head flops onto its small pillow, and I look up at Nurse Robin's eyes. She's sitting on a stool close to me now, behind me, right by my head. She's upside-down from my perspective. Her gloved hands rest reassuringly on my shoulders. I don't recall her moving, or maybe I'm just having a hard time keeping up with what's going on now. Her blue eyes, above her bright white surgical mask, smile at me, and I want to get lost in them.

"That's much better, isn't it?" she asks. I force myself to look around, away from her eyes. The room is in motion again. Janet injects another syringe, then prepares yet another, this one full of white stuff. Dr. Samantha is preparing a tray full of surgical tools; I spot a scalpel, forceps, cotton balls soaked in disinfectant. Dr. Anna is somewhere behind my head pushing buttons and turning dials on a large machine. I look back at Robin, who I can tell is still smiling. I vaguely notice the heart-monitor is beeping slower now. I'm not sure if anything I just saw should bother me, so I smile back at her. I feel warm and happy now, which seems strange for some reason I can't place...

“I'm ready to proceed, Anna,” Dr. Samantha says. “Please put our patient under.”

Robin stands from her stool, and moves back towards the big machine, out of my view. Before I can be concerned, she is replaced by Anne and her green eyes smiling down at me. “Alright, John, tilt your head back for me?” The latex of her left hand presses lightly against my chin, and I willingly comply. I'm looking up at her masked face, the bright surgical lights, the ceiling, and Anne's right hand appears holding a big clear plastic anesthesia mask. I'm momentarily concerned, but the drugs quickly push the feeling away as she starts talking. “I'm going to put this mask over your face, and I want you to take some deep breaths for me. Can you do that?” I momentarily want to say no, but can't remember why.

She lowers the mask onto my face slowly, the plastic making a tight seal. “Deep breaths now, John.” she tells me. I cautiously take a breath through the mask, which smells sweet. I can taste the air, the gas, on my tongue. It's not so bad. I breath out, and take another breath, this one deeper.

“That's it..” Anna is watching me closely. “Deep breath in, then blow it away.” I breath out, and in again. “Good... that's it. Just relax and breath...” I take another breath, and notice I'm getting dizzy. Another breath. Another... in... and out. The table I'm on seems softer, and the lights above me brighter.

I hear Anna's voice again, quieter, almost far away. “Sevo now, please, Robin.” I take another breath, this one involuntary, like the gas is forcing its way into my lungs. The lights are even brighter, and my eyelids are getting heavy. The gas forces itself in again, and my vision blurs.

“Off to sleep, now, John.” Anna says. Nurse Janet is injecting something into my arm; it burns but I barely notice it. Suddenly, I don't want to sleep. This isn't right. Something isn't right. But I take another breath, and my eyelids flutter closed. The burning from the injection travels up my vein quickly, and I'm floating off the table. The gas forces its way in again....

I hear a voice, far away, but I can't understand it, and then there's nothing.