My heart drummed against my rib cage as my hands trembled with the scalpel in my grasp. I try to catch my breath and steady my heart rate as I grip the scalpel harder. The once cold metal now becoming warm from the heat emanating from my palms as they turn clammy. My attending physician, Dr. Tanaka, keeps his gaze on my hands. I don’t know if he can hear the beating of my heart, but if the scalpel shaking said anything, it said I’m scared. Nervous. Nauseous, even. Here I was about to cut into a man, something I trained for the last 4 years and yet when it started to count, I couldn’t do it.
The thought of failure runs through my mind and my heart beats louder, my chest starts to tighten and my grip flails. The hot scalpel slips through my fingers and falls to the floor, scattering between my feet. Dr. Tanaka’s head snaps up at me, now staring me in the face versus hyper fixating on my hands. He’s saying something to me, but I can’t hear him. My ears ring and my chest stings as I take a breath. My previous trembling right hand flies up to my chest and “grabs” at my heart. I stumble back and Marcy, the sterile technician, grabs at my arm trying to support me as my knees buckle.
As I start to go down, I look at the man lying unconscious on the surgical table, the patient I’ve let down. Marcy’s hands press into my forearm as she tries to counterbalance my weight. Dr. Tanaka moves around the table to kneel next to me. With my body lying flat on the floor of the O.R, he snaps off his surgical mask and starts to speak to me. I can’t hear him, but I can make out some of the words based on the movement of his mouth.
“Breathe.” My lungs burn.
“In….Out.” My chest hurts.
“Again.” I can’t.
My left arm tingles and as I try to flex my fingers, I can’t feel if I have actually accomplished the action. My breathing grows shallower, and my mouth grows dry. My hearing goes out and only a ringing tone is left behind. It starts at the back of my head and races towards the front, a low groan tries to escape my throat in response to it. Surgeon to patient. My vision goes white and…
