The Voice That Brings You Back

Suspended in ripples of slow moving consciousness. The best way I think to describe the effects the laughing gas had on me. And it was strange. The feeling that I could hear everything, the fact that I could move my hands, and the strange thought that I resembled the giant gaping mouth on the cover of Pink Floyd's The Wall DVD.

And when the drill started, I felt it in waves. Gentle at first and then building, until suddenly my eyes were open and I was saying "Ow" and Dr. R looked sort of surprised to see me awake so soon. "Easy Stacey. You're doing good," said a lady's voice by my side. "Breathe through your nose. That's it. Good." And just as suddenly as my eyes had opened, they were closed again and I was back on the astral plain floating and listening and hearing Toby Keith.

Toby Keith?

I laughed to myself, thinking that I shouldn't laugh when presumably there was some heavy artillery going on in my mouth but I couldn't help it. Dr. R laughed too. "Yes," he said, "Go ahead and laugh Stacey. Sometimes it makes you do that. Tilt your head back a little further, further. Okay, now that's good." And I felt myself following his instructions, wondering how it was I could do as I was told when I didn't feel as if I were in control of myself anymore.

I started gasping for air, feeling as if a giant weight were pressing against my chest. My hands clenching and unclenching as I fought them for control, wanting them to understand that I was there in that room with them. "Deep breaths Stacey," said the lady's voice again, her thumb stroking the side of my face. "I know it hurts, but it's almost done now. You're doing good."

Calmed, I felt myself sinking back into the chair, relaxing. Trusting. Concentrating on breathing. Just breathing. Remembering how I breathed when I was in labor, remembering how I could manage the pain.

Like someone had turned the electricity off, everything went silent. And I could feel on the side of my cheek, something that tasted unmistakably like cotton. A hand on my shoulder shook me gently. "Stacey, you can wake up now. It's all over. You did great."

Tired, I didn't want to open my eyes. "It felt like a dream," I said, the left side of my mouth garbling my speech. "Was Toby Keith playing the entire time?"

The hygenist nodded at me, smiling. "Yes," she said, "Don't you like Toby Keith?" I watched her unhooking all sorts of devices from my arms, and some other wire that was clipped onto my jeans.

"Nightmare," I said, still feeling as if I was floating in a cloud somewheres. Laughing she took my arm to help me sit up. "I was wondering what had you so upset. I'll have to tell Dr. R no more Toby Keith in the operating room."

I didn't feel like telling her that Toby Keith had been the least of my worries as she steered me back out towards the waiting room where my Dad was waiting.

"Thank you," I said in a quiet voice, remembering how she had stroked my face and calmed me. "Thanks for being my guardian angel in there."

And with that, Dad helped me with my coat and drove me home.