About a week ago, I underwent corrective foot surgery. Since I’ve never had surgery of any kind before, I had plenty to be worried about. But what freaked me out most of all was what my friend Gareth referred to as “alien abduction juice,” a component of the anesthesia that not only renders me relaxed, but also eliminates pretty much all memories until it wears off. I asked the doctor about it, and learned that indeed, this drug, Midazolam (marketed under the name Versed here) will do that to you.
I made the mistake of Googling for it and reading a lot of the complaints about it, and managed to get myself really worked up. I eventually comforted myself with the notion that the complaints were mostly from people who hadn’t been adequately informed of the drug’s effects and a few who had genuinely adverse effects. But I still had a lot of lingering discomfort with the idea of willingly creating a gap in my memory. But considering that the alternative was general anesthesia, and that choosing Midazolam would allow me to remain conscious through the procedure (so I could report on my pain levels, etc.), I figured it was the best possible choice for me.
In the end, I have no recollection of ever getting my spinal anesthetic, only a fleeting image of the room I was operated on in, and a series of disconnected memories as the drug wore off. I asked my doctor what I talked about (if anything) during the procedure, and he reported that I kept asking the same questions about the anesthesia (and apparently repeatedly expressed surprise that I had already received a spinal anesthetic). So clearly, neither the Midazolam nor the Lorazepam that they first gave me reduced my hang-ups about this part of the process.
And upon reflection, I’m glad I asked a lot of questions from the minute I started discussion anesthesia with my doctor, the hospital pre-admission folks, and the anesthesiologist. I’m glad that I was more hung up with something that didn’t have to do with cutting, grinding, or sewing, as well. The alien abduction juice was a good distraction from all the other stuff I was going through, and I’ll certainly use it when we do the work on the next foot.
I am happy to hear you had a good experience with Versed, and even happier that you did your own research in advance and knew what to expect. Versed is the “dirty little secret” of anesthesiologists who usually intentionally do not explain it to poor unsuspecting patients. (Makes their job easier, and who wants to take time to actually explain it’s effects – the patient might refuse it !) Most people are fine with it anyway, but there are more than a “few” of us who have had “genuinely adverse effects” from it. I had a nightmare experience and no one cared.