I could hear the surgeon talking. I tried to scream, wiggle my toes but I couldn’t move.
I was on the operating table, staring at the ceiling, surgical lights shining on my face, when I realised I was paralysed; I couldn’t even blink. Was I dreaming?
It had to be a dream. I mean I had the anaesthetic before the operation, I remember the anaesthetist administrating it through a canula in the back of my hand. So why does this dream seem to be so real, so vivid?
The surgeon’s scalpel glinted in the artificial light and I felt a rush of intense fear as the blade descended towards my stomach.
“I’m awake, please hear me” I screamed silently, desperately trying to get their attention.
In a blind panic I tried to raise my heartbeat; maybe they would notice and realise the error and stop. My efforts were all in vain, I had no choice but to lie there.
I could still hear the surgeon talking as he started to cut into me.
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