I was under general anesthesia just recently and
now that I'm back, am determined to share with you its uncanny weirdness:
It literally clips a piece from the ribbon of your timeline. One second
you're listening to the instructions of the anesthesiologist, who's making
sure you're calm "going under," the next instant the ribbon
of your timeline has been spliced back into the land of the living and
you're observing a member of the operating team whisking off your poncho,
or whatever they call the operating theater plastic you'd seen them covering
your calmly breathing corpse with. I mean, you might as well have been
dead in the interim, and are truly lucky they brought you back at all!
So here's the way I'm going to share this with you. On the last page you
read about the little girl racing into the sea. That was written August
16th, 2014. And today, as I write this, the date is March 5th, 2015. You
see? You were out a little over six and a half months!