There is nothing natural about surgery. Everything it stands for, except for the desire to cure, is against existence as we know it. When was the last time you saw a monkey slicing open the abdomen of another monkey when the latter falls ill? Have you ever seen a lion performing brain surgery on a member of its pride? Don’t even get me started on all the barbers in ancient times who moonlighted as surgeons and whose idea of anesthesia was plying their patients with alcohol before mutilating their bodies.
I just dropped someone near and dear to me off at the hospital for a surgical procedure. Everyone at home was downplaying the whole thing but it was obvious to me that tension had taken on physical form. It was perceptible in the way everyone was avoiding eating in front of the person since she has been fasting since the night. A few hours before midnight, she was stuffing her face with junk food; something which she rarely does being the health freak that she is. It would have been comical if not for the fact.
At this time she should be wondering the anesthetic-fueled landscape of her mind. I sincerely hope she is as comfortable and pain-free as modern medical science can allow. I hope she finds something good there.