Anesthesiologist: A Short Story

I make people pass out. It is not as bad as it sounds. There is no violent rampage around a city, pummeling unsuspecting strangers with my bare fists. It is in a sterile setting with the soothing hiss of machinery in the background. I stand over a patient that mutters nonsense until he cannot count down to one. It is at that very moment, when he is about to let his subconscious secrets slip out, that I know he is through. I made him pass out. Maybe that is too vague. I am an anesthesiologist. I give people drugs and knock them out for a living; but, that is oversimplified. It is not as easy as sliding some pills into a strangers hand in an alley and leaving with a pocket full of money. I actually had to go to med school. That really sucked. …show more content…
It does not stop him from talking. “Once you see how angelic I look, you will want to see what it feels like to wake up beside me.” I laugh. I did not want to but it was impossible to hold it in. “I assure you that I will not be thinking about that. Now count down from ten,” I demand. I turn the nozzle and the familiar hiss instantly calms nerves. “Ten, nine, eight, this is fun,” he says. “Seven, six…I hope…” “Keep counting” I demand. “Five….I hope…I hope I don’t wake up…” he slurs before his head leans to the side and I know he is out. It takes a few seconds before his words register in my mind. I hope I don’t wake up. What was that supposed to mean? Of course he did not mean it. He is heavily drugged; barley conscious when he said it. I bet I would say some stupid stuff under anesthesia. Dr. Clark shuffles to my side, “Thank you Anna. See you in an hour,” he says. “Did you hear him? Did you hear what he said?” I ask him because sometimes my brain goes haywire and I hear things incorrectly. “No I did not,” he grunts. His patience is running thin. “He said he did not want to wake up. Is that not a little peculiar?” He attempts a reassuring smile, which looks grotesque on his solemn