It listed her medical history, recommendations from family that she does this and their testimonies. Funny how she hadn’t been asked to submit her own, but then they didn’t really care about what she thought of her own defects.
“You’ll be sore for a few days where the implant is put in and, as we told your family, there will be some disorientation at first as it learns how your brain works. After the initial adjustment period, you’ll be right as rain. Breath deep now and relax, alright?” The nurse offered a calm smile.
Lacy nodded, looking up at the tiled ceiling and trying to ignore the too loud buzz of the fluorescent lights above her. The static sound grated on her nerves and was physically painful to the point that, as scared as she was, she wished the anesthesia would put her to sleep faster. The plastic face mask covering her mouth and nose had fogged up and with each breath she took, it was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot. She was sweating. She realized it when she tried to get more comfortable, but the plasticy cushion beneath her stuck to her arms. The sensation made her skin crawl.
She didn’t want to be there, wanted to go home, didn’t want this. Her mind was going fuzzy and the corners of her vision were beginning to blur.
“I changed my mind,” she said.
Or had she said it? The nurse had gone back to looking at the slate and didn’t acknowledge her. Lacy tried to turn her head to look at the woman, to try and repeat herself. She couldn’t.
“I changed my mind! I don’t want to do this!”
She was sure her lips moved, but they felt so heavy. Frustration built in her chest, pushed up and got trapped in her throat.
Stop, stop, stop
Her vision swam from the drugs and the tears that had been building in her eyes escaped down the sides of her face.
The sterile white minimalist room began to melt away, the scent of the anesthesia mixing with the room’s stomach-turning scent of bleach and disinfectant. Her surroundings bleed away and blurred.
And then there was nothing.