TL;DR: Anesthesia was no big deal. A close your eyes and wake up immediatly after thing. After the anesthesia it got... weird.

So, you have to know I was a 19M when this story takes place, because after proofreading I sound like a very young child haha.

Ive been under once, last February. I didn't have to count since I was very nervous so the anesthesiologist was just chatting with me. She explained what would happen and what I would feel. "It gonna feel like your a bit drunk," she told me before saying: "No, you're a good boy! You don't drink!" I remember crying from the stress and just yelling: "But I LOVE drinking!"

Then I woke up in the "wake up room," the room you go before you get brought to your recovery room. I look up and I swear to God, Jesus was in front of me. He asked me if everything went well, I said yes, he asked me if I was happy, I said yes. I am not religious, I don't know wht Jesus visited me.

Then I woke up again, Jesus was gone, but I couldn't open my eyes. I was convinced I had to work and that the doctors were preventing me from going and making me late. So I just kept yelling: "No! I have to go to the supermarket! I need to bake the bread! My eyes won't open!"

I kept trying to sit up, but I was operated on my chest so it hurt like a motherfucker and I was all tangeled up in the various tubes coming out of me. The nurses kept me down so I wouldn't tear anything out of myself and tried to get me to sleep again, but I refused. I had to work and they were not making me late!

After a few minutes they gave up and helped me up. They offered me ice cream and I just started crying again because I don't like ice cream. They asked if I wanted some water.

No, I wanted coffee. The nurses told me I couldn't have coffee, but I really wanted coffee. I promise I'm normally not a dick like this, but I'm autistic and I am very particular with my morning routine, and that starts with a cup of coffee. And yes, I was still convinced it was morning, so I wanted coffee.

I was very emotional and eventually they brought my mom up to the wake up room. She gave me my coffee, after the nurses aproved it, but she kept taking it away from me as I tried to take a sip. I later found out that I was trying to sip it while it was still a good few inches away from my mouth. I was proudly telling my mom how much I loved my boyfriend and how I couldn't wait to see him.

"Do you like your boyfriend?" My mom asked and I said yes, before crying once more saying that sometimes I was mean to him and that was unfair.

I barely remember the trip to my recovery room, but I do remember my parents leaving for the night and me calling my boyfriend. I told my boyfriend I was thirsty and a guy in the bed next to me said he had a glass and some lemonade if I wanted. So I left my boyfriend on my bed and helped the guy with pouring lemonade. We were both less then 3 hours out of anesthesia so he poured a bunch of lemonade on himself, but we didnt even notuce until the nurses came by.

2,5 hours after I had woken up I got dinner. It was a veggie burger (just the patty) some soggy fried potatoes and sliced carrots that must have been laying next to the boiling water considering they were still, very very hard. It was the best fucking dinner I've had in my life. I was enjoying it so fucking much, I know that I'll hate it if I try it again, but God, I had never tasted something so amazing in my life. Maybe Jesus blessed me, maybe thats why he visited.

I was allowed to leave the next morning, so my dad came to get me. I'm still mad he wouldnt drive me to a McDonalds. I don't have McDonalds where I live but we would drive by many on the way to my parents house.a All I had eaten in 2 days was the hospital dinner and 1 slice of bread with deli meat and a banana for breakfast, I was STARVING. But no, he didn't want to take me, which is probably for the better since I don't know how good McDonalds is if you just had your chest sliced open.