the first little spark

It was like pulling my car into a gas station, except in this case, car equals me. The room had seven beds, divided by a checkered hospital curtain (the person next to me thought the colors reminded her of a Mexican restaurant). The nurse asked me to wear a “vest” that allowed her to loosely tie my body to the bed in case I try to get out of the bed later and fall off. Then, someone inserted an IV, followed by my ECT psychiatrist, who was wearing some sort of a track suit. I saw him for about 30 seconds, just to tell me happy new year and that I will be receiving unilateral ECT for today (less memory loss, according to some) .  Then, the anesthesiologist spoke to me for about 10 seconds. There’s no countdown.

And then, I woke up. It was already over.

My head still hurts, and there’s some hardened gel in my hair from where they placed the electrode.

Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

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