The mask.

Today, we did an MRI scan, in preparation for Abbe’s next heart operation. And because there was no needle yesterday, he was now to be sedated using a mask.

Abbe usually falls asleep with me holding him in my arms when we go through operations and examinations where sedation is needed. I don't know if I’m so keen to hold him in these situations, that my wife never gets the chance to do it. Or if she thinks it’s tough. I think it’s the former. Personally, I think it somehow feels safe to have him in my arms when he falls asleep. But, that’s when a needle is inserted and the anesthesia enters that way.

Today was different. He was to be sedated with a mask and we then usually leave it all to the anesthetists. But not this time. I sat with Abbe in my arms. They made him breathe in something soothing and odourless via the mask, to relax. So far, so good. But when they turned on the actual anaesthetic, he didn’t want to know.

I don’t know if it was the smell of it or whatever it was, but he was wriggling and struggling, trying to fight his way out of my arms. It was terrible. I had to hold him in a firm grip and press the mask over his mouth. Until he became all limp and stopped wriggling. It felt as if I killed him. Like in a film where James Bond holds something deadly to the mouth of an enemy, until he becomes limp. Ugh.