I am currently sedated. Not very much, obviously, or I wouldn’t be writing this, at least not in any form that made sense. (I’m assuming this makes sense. If what I’m actually writing is ‘Twist the elephants! Twist the elephants!’, could someone tell me?)
I’m sedated because I had an endoscopy today. You know how they say the worst bit of things is the anticipation? In this case, I can safely say that the worst bit was the actual procedure. Nevertheless, it was brief and it’s over now, and my memories of it are fading quickly.
When you have an endoscopy with the NHS, they offer you either a local anaesthetic throat spray, or the sedative. The former actually helps to numb the discomfort, the latter just makes sure you’re relaxed about it and don’t remember a lot about the experience afterwards. So is it better to have a less painful experience, or a more painful one you won’t remember? I opted for the latter, but I had a vague feeling that I should have chosen the throat spray. I think this is because a voice in my head was telling me that it was cowardly to want to wish the experience away. I should face up to reality in all its messy, retching glory.
Obviously, that was silly. Nobody blames anyone for getting sedation for a minor surgical procedure. (Actually, someone on the internet probably does, but I’m not going looking.) But I think the voice in my head was a massed choir of those people who go on about Facing the Truth and Not Living in Cloud Cuckoo Land and generally scorn the idea of smoothing life’s problems away in any form whatsover – except of course when they’re doing it. Because it’s one of those irregular verbs, isn’t it? I take a well-deserved break from the pressure, you hide from life, he’s deluded and avoidant. In fact, nobody could really handle facing up to reality all the time. Truth is like the sun: it’s a necessary thing and a good thing, but looking at it directly can send you blind.
Everyone needs a bit of sedation sometimes.
And on that note, I’m going to go and lie down somewhere while the tiny pixies in my blood work their sleep-inducing magic. (I don’t really know how medicine works. Pixies are involved somehow, yes?)
