The Conversations That Changed Everything on Surgery Day
I walked into surgery today expecting a replay of my first knee replacement. Same hospital. Same procedure. Same routine.
What I didn’t expect was how different the experience would feel — and how much of that difference would come from the anaesthesiology team.
Last time, my memory is simple. The anaesthesiologists came in, my knee was marked, something was administered, and I was gone. The next thing I knew, I was waking up after surgery.
That’s not how today unfolded.
This time, the anaesthesiology team took centre stage — and I was very much awake for most of it.
They began by placing a catheter high in my right thigh, on the same side as my knee. It was explained as a way to deliver a targeted pain block. I remember thinking, This definitely didn’t happen last time. If it did, I must have already been far off in la-la land.
Then came the spinal nerve block — and this part genuinely fascinated me.
I wasn’t just lying there; I was an active participant. Shoulders relaxed. Back arched. Hold still. They calmly explained each step as they went, what I might feel, and why they were doing it. I felt relaxed, curious, and completely present — a very different experience from my first surgery.
When I mentioned that none of this had happened last time, they smiled and explained that so far I’d only been given a small dose of what they call “happy gas.” Just enough to take the edge off. Normally, they give a couple more doses, and then — right before surgery — a much larger one that puts you fully to sleep.
And sure enough, I was wheeled into the operating room fully aware.
The lights were on. The surgeon and his team were there. I was transferred onto the table. I could actually see my leg being bent, moved, and manipulated — yet I couldn’t feel a single thing. Not pressure. Not discomfort. Nothing at all.
At one point I asked, only half-joking,
“You’re not going to operate on me while I’m awake… are you?”
They chuckled and reassured me that sedation was coming.
I remember hearing something. Then nothing.
I woke up on the operating table after everything was done. The surgeon leaned in and told me the surgery went fantastically. Then he added, laughing, that I’d been snoring so loudly I’d made quite the impression.
That made me laugh too.
What struck me most wasn’t the surgery itself — it was how much more aware I was of the process this time. The professionalism, coordination, and quiet confidence of the anaesthesiology team gave me a whole new appreciation for what happens long before the first incision is ever made.
From the very first nurse who did my preliminary checks, right through to the surgical and recovery teams, I felt genuinely cared for. These are dedicated, skilled people who do this every day — yet never make it feel routine. Being in their hands was deeply reassuring, and I have nothing but respect and gratitude for the phenomenal team that took such good care of me.
“Sometimes the most powerful part of healing begins before the surgery ever starts.”