A few days earlier, the writer underwent a routine surgical procedure. The operation itself wasn’t high risk, but the experience of total anesthesia left a lasting impression. Some recent statements by Mónica García, the Más Madrid leader and anesthesiologist, about fear and stress beyond the OR echoed in the mind. A simple decision followed: to get a fresh haircut before the hospital routine demanded a beard trim for hygiene. It felt like a small touch of elegance amid hospital gowns and medical anxieties.
In the preparation area, patients awaiting surgery shared space with those recovering from procedures. Time stretched on. The mood stayed light despite the occasional tease until a woman rose abruptly and collapsed. She was sedated from the waist down, yet her haste got the better of her. The moment reminded the writer of a parent, a familiar face in a tense setting. Shortly after, another woman spoke up, identifying herself as Annie. Trying to ease tension, a French conversation came to mind, but the moment was brief. A younger anesthetist explained that the patient was terrified; she had barely recovered from a prior procedure and feared waking during anesthesia. A calm, clear reassurance followed, offering another dose of narcotic and steady guidance. The writer, nerves jangling, squeezed the doctor’s hand and whispered a plea for reassurance, seeking comfort from the human touch he provided.
The journey continued as the writer moved toward the operating floor. Modern choreography replaced the old, bustling corridors: some facilities now use large recliners to minimize the visual bustle of the hospital environment. A familiar reminder surfaced: a line from a favorite author about opening one’s eyes to see clearly. The quote echoed differently this time, not from a classic adventure but from a contemporary work that speaks to practical instruction during intense moments.
The operating wing looked remarkably contemporary, with a wide central artery for traffic and a row of illuminated rooms on either side. They were spacious, organized, almost regimented in their efficiency. The space felt clinical yet purposeful. The corridor shelves housed an assortment of devices, each with a specific role in care. The atmosphere projected a sci‑fi vibe, a faint echo of cinematic futurism. It wasn’t only the writer who woke up in recovery; Annie did as well, a reminder that life still carries on and that even experienced hands need guidance. The overall message remained: operating rooms are precise, purposeful spaces where plans are executed, safety prioritized, and calm provisions made for those undergoing procedures.