I had stomach surgery in 1998 that in all likelihood, saved my life. While I was being prepared for that, an anesthetic IV needle was inserted and I began to slowly get more and more drowsy. Eventually, I was wheeled on my gurney to the operating room which I could barely see, not so much because of the IV, but because I am extremely myopic and my glasses were elsewhere.
As I was rolled into place, I could see this large circular thing hanging above me, something with a red something right in the middle. I became very curious to know what that thing in the middle was, so I asked.
"What is that?" I said, to which someone answered, "That's the light."
"I mean, what's that red thing in the middle?" and the answer came back "That's a handle to move the light around." That's the last thing I heard. When I awoke, I was in the recovery room.
The point I remember about it all was that someone very kindly took the trouble to hear me and to reply to my questions. Getting that last answer had made me utterly happy and content. If for some reason the surgery had gone bad and I had died, if that had been my last glimmer of human thought, I would have died a happy man.
You never know how far a simple act of kindness will reach. More than a decade later, I still have only the fondest recall of that moment and the most grateful of thoughts for my benefactor even though exactly who it was, I haven't a clue.
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