I Woke Up From Anesthesia During a Procedure, and It Was Utterly Terrifying

My most disturbing experience in a medical setting happened when I was 21. I underwent a routine procedure under general anesthesia and, while on the table, I woke up.

It was my junior year in college, and I was living in Southern California. At that point, gastrointestinal distress had been a standard part of life. Acid reflux, heartburn, pain, indigestion; without going into too graphic detail, I’ll just say that I had been suffering with everything in the classic Pepto-Bismol jingle for years. And I had put off finding out the cause as long as possible because, truthfully, I already knew the answer: I drank too much, I smoked too many cigarettes, and I waffled between periods of fasting and bouts of binge eating. What deeply unhealthy person wants to be told that their behaviors have consequences? But I digress.

Eventually, the pain and embarrassment grew too debilitating. I didn’t stop drinking, smoking, or eating like a mad person—such reasonable courses of action wouldn’t come for more than a decade—but I did finally make an appointment with a doctor with the unrealistic hope that they could prescribe a magical pill to fix my stomach woes.

Instead, the doctor instructed me to schedule an endoscopy. The medical procedure, wherein a thin tube with a camera attached to the end of it is guided down the esophagus to check for damage and inform a medical diagnosis, would require me to go under anesthesia.

I had been under anesthesia once before, when my tonsils and adenoids were removed two years earlier. When I awoke from that surgery, I immediately started crying despite not being in any pain—a reaction, I was informed at the time, that was relatively normal, so I wasn’t nervous to go under again.

When the date of my endoscopy rolled around, I showed up at the hospital with such confidence and hubris that I planned on heading to a party that evening. My memory is hazy; I remember lying down, receiving an IV, and then getting whisked away into the room where the endoscopy would be performed. I have a vague recollection of the doctor asking about my college major as I drifted to sleep.

The next thing I remember is choking. I had a tube down my throat and immediately started to panic. It didn’t help that I couldn’t see anything—I’m highly nearsighted, and most doctors ask patients to remove their contacts before going under. But someone must have noticed I was awake because, though it felt like ages had passed, I was quickly put under again.

There are many reasons patients sometimes wake up during procedures. According to the American Society of Anesthesiologists, anesthesia awareness “can be more common in patients with multiple medical conditions, and certain surgeries or circumstances increase the risk,” usually emergencies such as C-sections or heart surgeries, because the anesthesiologist cannot safely administer the typical dose.

Strangely, there is also evidence that redheads may need more anesthesia. Quoted by the Cleveland Clinic, anesthesia researcher Daniel Sessler said, “Red hair is the only physical characteristic that indicates how much anesthetic a person needs... Some studies also show that people with red hair are more resistant to local anesthetics. And they may need more general anesthesia to keep them sleeping during medical procedures.” (While I do not have red hair, many members of my extended family do, which means I have exactly zero idea whether my genetics played a role in my sudden awakening.)

Unfortunately, I was too nervous and dazed when I woke up (for real) to say, “Hey, buddy...what gives?!” (Yes, I’m this bad at talking to doctors in my own hypothetical situation; just imagine how awful I am at it in real life.) Regardless of the circumstances surrounding my mid-procedure chokefest, I now associate anesthesia with fear.

Years later, I again began to experience chronic reflux and inflammation in my esophagus. I hoped that my doctor would prescribe me some extra-strength Nexium and send me on my way, but he instead scheduled me for another endoscopy. I protested, but yet again, my symptoms had grown too painful to ignore, and I acquiesced to the suggestion.

This time, the experience was completely different: Before my procedure, both the doctor performing the endoscopy and the anesthesiologist met with me individually and answered my questions. The latter told me that they try to use the minimum level of anesthesia that will be both effective and appropriate for a specific procedure and patient because, in general, higher levels of anesthesia mean greater risks.

Lo and behold, this time it went off without a hitch. I did receive a GERD diagnosis and was given several dietary recommendations, which included avoiding a lot of my favorite foods...but at least I didn’t experience another full-on horror scene in the process.