Last week, I was constantly tired and my whole body was in pain. So I went for a check-up. I ended up getting admitted and having surgery over the weekend.
Mind you, it was just a minor surgery. I didn’t even have to have full anesthesia, just local. Halfway through the surgery, the doctor asked me a question about treatment, and I joked to him that I couldn’t feel half of my body and he was holding a knife. It would be a yes by default.
It was a busy day at the hospital. I was prepped for surgery since 3pm, but didn’t go inside until 6pm. There weren’t enough beds, so I and the younger patients were sitting butt-naked next to each other while waiting. No phone, nothing, so we started chitchatting. Mostly complete nonsense. Then one by one, the nurses called us in for surgery. Until it was just me.
After the surgery, there was no room available. So I just laid there in the recovery area, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off. The amount of morbid jokes I could make in those hours surprised even myself, thought most don’t seem funny now without the dizziness post-surgery.
But the strangest things were that… I felt pretty fine about everything.
Sure, it was a minor surgery, there was almost no risk of death. Still, it was a surgery, and I was a first-timer. The thought about death did come across.
And you know what? The hours waiting for the surgery, and the hours after it, I couldn’t think of much to regret if I went asleep and never woke up again.
Sure, there are a few programs at work that need me, but the documentations would be decent enough for someone to take over, struggle for a few months, and then just go ahead. And everything would be just fine.
Then there are my cats, but I trust my ex to take care of them well, and I leave behind enough to make it not a big financial burden. So they would be just fine.
My board games? Sure, I would regret a bit a few games I haven’t tried. But I have discovered enough of my favorite games, and played them more than most. Even without me, they would end up in happy hands to play them for years to come.
And my mortal attachments… I don’t know. I thought of my family and friends, and the “Tears in Rain” monologue played itself in my head. At most, I would be tears in rain.
I am not saying I am living the best life. Or the most fulfilling one. Or even a happy one. I had many many regrets for the past, but none was lingering on right then, right at that moment.
If anything, I realize that I am living a life where I would feel content to die at any time, while quietly rebelling by keeping on living. Selfish as it is, maybe it is not half bad. Who would know?