#gassed

The Nurse adjusted my hairnet ignored my stammering, moved closer, and picked up the black anesthesia mask

She slowly lowered it towards my face.Her other hand cupped my chin, gently tilting my head back to meet the descending mask.

I could feel my own breath, hot and moist, mixing with the cold air the mask was feeding me.

I didn't like it. But I had to breathe and to my dismay, my throat stung this time.

The air wasn't just rubbery, but sickly sweet, like rotting apples. I coughed and instinctively tried to pull my head away.

“Yes sweetheart. Desflurane does have rather a pungent aroma. But it is very effective.”

The Nurse was holding my head, and her grip was firm. "Try to not struggle," she ordered, her voice soft but commanding.

I began to struggle, my heart pounding in my chest. I still didn't know what was happening, but I was sure I couldn't let her do this to me!

"Relax," the Nurse purred, "I know the gas smells strong, but you'll feel better if you just relax."

Deep breaths, someone was saying-soothing-pleading-demanding from somewhere Mikey couldn’t see. A big ask after his world had gone up in smoke…A laboratory?

No. It was April’s apartment and his world was over. Leo had just hurtled through the window like a ragdoll. Limp. Lifeless. Mikey could only watch hyper-magnified droplets of rainwater and blood slither down the windowpane’s edge that had nicked his brother’s throat, stolen his last breath.

Leo?

Thunder roared for Shredder’s victory. Raph roared so much louder. April screamed. (The sheets of rain lashed urgently, trying to breach the darkness, shushing: Michelangelo, listen! I’m right here, I’m okay!)

April’s cries reached a frenzied pitch as Mikey stumbled, turning just in time to see Donnie—double mutated, mad, mindless—tearing her and Casey apart.

No! Stop, please!!

Don hissed, low and hungry (and even lower, We’re trying to help you!) until Kluh loomed, plowing a fist through Donnie’s head to bring the monster down. His other hand closed so easily around Raph’s throat.

No…No…!

His helpless flailing blurred through teeming tears. Mikey couldn’t blink them away. He couldn’t intervene. He couldn’t scream. He could only watch as Raph…

As Raph’s head swiveled toward him, looming closer yet hazier, his hands eerily stretching the distance to grip Mikey’s trembling shoulders. As his frantic, futile warbling for air miraculously gained some strength, some…syllables.

C’mon, bro, snap out of it! With the oxygen mask it oughta be wearin’ off by now! If that wackbag doctor lied to us, I’ll gas him, give him a taste of his own medicine—

Wait, look! His pupils are responding more normally now. Mikey? Can you hear us? Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real. We’re here. We’re with you. Everything’s okay, I promise.

He couldn’t believe that.

Just breathe.

Anesthesia Dreams

The advantage of having a husband who is a good anesthesiologist is the guarantee of sweet dreams during those unexpected surgical procedures.

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