I dreamed I was the last person to remember anesthesia

I stood in a quiet operating room, the lights dimmed, and every patient before me had been awake during their surgery—some smiling, some crying, all remembering. I kept trying to tell them it was just a dream, but they didn’t believe me. The machine was still warm. My hands were steady. And then I woke up, heart thudding, not from fear, but from the sudden certainty that someone, somewhere, is still waiting for me to say: 'You’re safe now.'