Never again

That was torture. I'm not talking 'went to a four-hour long grade school recital' torture. No. I'm talking, "fists clinched, trying to crawl off of the top of the operating table, choking, sputtering and gurgling while the staff shouted at me to "cough, cough harder!" while I gurgled before they repeated the saline dousings; given ALL of the anesthesia that they could give me in three tries without a surgical anesthesian there and me still wide awake and terrified through it all" kind of torture.

I came out of it fine, just tired and with a sore throat.  The staff were professional and competent but they were dealing with (unknown until now) extremely deep phobia/panic and there was just nothing in place to handle it.The doctor was still shaking his head in wonder afterwards, unable to understand how I had shaken off three doses of his strongest drugs and was still alert and coherent.Luckily for all of us, I was able to maintain sufficient control to not be combative.

The tube, I could (mostly) deal with although I started to panic again each time I swallowed and felt the metal rod. The injection of saline out of the end of it and into my lungs - no freakin' way. I was drowning and I knew it.

Never again. I will never again give consent for that. I can still feel the metal rod in my throat when I close my eyes.