I remember the first time I had surgery. I was certain I was going to die. I wrote out a will, I made a playlist to listen to on the drive to the hospital. I was like 14.

Before going back into surgery, I thought I was going to throw up. They injected me with morphine, and lemme tell you, it hurt. It felt like fire slowly climbing up my arm. I screamed in pain. I could feel it as it slowly traveled up the veins into my arm. Once it reached my shoulders, I felt nothing. It was wonderful. No more pain. I started screaming that the ceiling tiles were coming down, though. It freaked me out.

Anyway, they wheeled me back, told me to count back from 100 as they slipped the mask over my face. I made it to 98.

I’m told the surgery lasted several hours, but it felt like I blinked and it was over. The nurse told me it was over, and I told her she was mistaken, we were about to start. And that was it. Took me about an hour to come back to earth.

My point in telling you my personal experience is to hopefully convince you that you’ll be fine. Looking back, it all seems silly to have worried. Don’t let the stories here freak you out.