The endoscopy

Sarah and her family were back in the waiting room, an environment with which they had become more familiarized over the past few weeks. The still clueless doctors were going to perform an endoscopy on Sarah to try and identify the problem. She sat among the rows of empty chairs and busied herself with magazines, trying to distract her mind that was jumping to conclusions.

“I remember texting all of my friends at school saying ‘alright guys, I’m about to go in. Pray for me,’ and I posted something on instagram about it,” recalled Sarah. “I was being a little bit dramatic, but to me, it was surgery.”

A nurse called the family back, and a wave of panic hit Sarah who did not have much idea of what life would be like walking out. The doctor who sat them down to explain the procedure had no clue either.

“If Sarah has this disease, this is how it works in her body,” explained Dr. Kennedy, the gastroenterologist that would be performing the procedure. She went down a list of possible causes, feeding Sarah’s mind more nerve wracking thoughts with each name mentioned.

They were going to stick a long, snake like camera down Sarah’s throat to examine the problem from the inside, she told them.

The nurse came back and whisked Sarah away. She changed into a hospital gown and again was prodded by a needle searching for a plump vein to pierce. Her parents walked her to the double doors where they exchanged their goodbyes.

“The point when I had to leave my parents behind me was when I knew I was on my own,” described Sarah.

As soon as she sat on the bed in the room behind the doors, nurses bustled around her, strapping on heart rate monitors, a nose strip for breathing and a piece for her mouth that the camera would be put down. A pungent anesthetic was sprayed down her opened throat.

“It was the worst taste I’d ever experienced. Imagine a numbing cough syrup times five,” said Sarah in disgust.

“Count backwards from 10 and think of happy thoughts,” a voice instructed her as she laid on her back.

“10…9…”

The sounds of the room became like distant voices in a dream.

“8…”

Her eyelids were slamming shut as if they were weighted. When was the last time she slept?

“7…”

Sleep sounded like a really good idea.

“6…”

She was down for the count. The doctors took it as their cue and began.

The camera snaked down Sarah’s throat and entered the battlefield.