The quiet moment before the first breath

Today, just before induction, I sat with a patient who hadn’t spoken in hours. Not because they were afraid—just tired. I held their hand and said nothing. The monitor beeped like a slow heartbeat. I didn’t fix anything. I just stayed. And then, when the anesthetic took over, their breathing changed—soft, even, like a sigh. That’s the part no one sees. The part that matters.