SVT - the beginning and end
Pristine walls surround me, as the beeping hurts my ears.
My vision blurs once more, and within moments I'm wheeled somewhere I can only describe as deafening.
A young girl around my age screams as her mother tries to soothe both the girl and herself - it all makes my head hurt.
"You will only feel a prick," the doctor smiles, but I don't believe him.
I can't believe him.
If he was being sincere, why would the girl scream? Why would her mother weep? Would mine do that too?
I struggle against my father's grasp, but he tries his best to keep me in place while my mother averts her gaze elsewhere.
I take a breath.
I feel a cold liquid course through my veins, trying to suppress my heart rate, but it hurts.
I choke on the medication, gasping for air,
but the more air I inhale, the more it hurts.
I pray to whoever cares to listen that this doesn't kill me, I pray that my newly found condition only hurts me and not those around me.
Years later, I can now say that they didn't listen to my pleas, and instead scoffed.
I now stare at the empty beds surrounding me, as the anaesthetist explains the process, but I don't listen.
How could I listen to her when I know the end is near? It could all be over in a few hours - it was just a matter of whether or not it would be a success.
Hours later I awake once more, meeting the recovery nurses gaze, as I ask the question that had been caught in my throat.
"Was it a success?"
She nods, and tears flood my vision as I picture the faces of my smiling family and friends.
How could years worth of struggle be fixed in a mere few hours? I will never know, but I am grateful that it has came to an end.
I felt as if a war I hadn't began had ended, alongside the torment it caused.
Copyright © Grace Ferguson | Year Posted 2024
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