The Implant

by Troy Dennison

  Two weeks later I was back and so were the butterflies. This was it, the big one, the moment when my life was going to irrevocably change forever. I can honestly say that I was more than a little bit nervous. I needn’t have worried though because the staff at the clinic were as friendly and helpful as before. They put me at ease while I sat in the waiting room with three other people, all of us wearing the same pale blue surgical style gowns as we waited for our Implants.

  It was my turn soon enough and I was ushered into the Implant suite which looked more like a dental surgery than a hospital operating room. I lay face down on the couch, with my head gently supported as the clinician (they didn’t like to call themselves surgeons because the word conjured up images of invasive surgical practice) talked me through the process.

  The clinician chatted happily to me as a small portion of hair on the back of my head was shaved and cleansed and then there was a sharp scratching sensation as they used a gentle local anaesthetic to numb the area. I didn’t feel a thing as the clinician sliced my head open with a scalpel and he continued to talk happily as he showed me my Implant before it was inserted into my head. I’d seen pictures and they had shown me a dormant Implant the last time I had visited the clinic but I was still amazed at how small it was. How could something that tiny contain so much raw knowledge? As it lay in the plastic container, immersed in a chemically inert suspension I couldn’t even see the monofilament that would connect the Implant to my brain.

  They wheeled a machine over to the couch and I could hear the technical conversation as the Implant was placed into it and lined up ready for insertion into my head. I felt myself getting nervous, the tension building as I waited for the inevitable explosion of pain that I was sure would hit me…but there was nothing. Then the machine was being wheeled away and the clinician was cheerfully chatting to me again as he placed a small stitch in the back of my scalp and it was over.

  They sat me up and the clinician produced a long, plastic and metal object that he waved slowly around my head. The ‘wand’ activated the Implant and ran a series of diagnostic checks to confirm that everything was working correctly. The clinician pronounced that he was happy with the results and I was escorted into another room where I could change into my regular clothes.

  Fifteen minutes later I was walking out of the clinic lobby and into the street clutching some paperwork and a list of things I should and shouldn’t do after the procedure. The sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant azure blue and I felt fantastic; no headaches, no queasiness, nothing. I’d half expected to feel different somehow, maybe smarter in some way? But there was none of that and I wondered for a moment if the Implant was actually working at all. In fact all I was really feeling was more than just a little bit hungry, so as I walked away from the clinic I knew just exactly where I was going to go for my lunch.