I was in a room being prepared for an endoscopic retrograde cholangiopancreatography procedure (where the doc sticks a tube down your throat to look at your liver). I hadn't met the doctor, but my own doctor told me he was very good. He came over to me after I'd been medicated, wearing the standard surgical scrubs, and introduced himself and asked me how I was doing. I remember saying, "About as well as can be expected, considering that I'm laying on my face in a dark room surrounded by people in masks." That's about the last thing I remember until they woke me up. I hope he didn't think I was always that rude.
I also remember being prepared to have my gallbladder out, and I said to the anesthesiologist, "What's this noxious stuff you're pumping into me?" He said, "It's not noxious," and that's the last thing I remember until waking up.
And, years earlier, I had had an operation to remove a tumor from my arm. This happened on Christmas Eve, so I started waking up in a recovery room with Christmas carols playing in the background. I remember asking the nurse, "Am I in Heaven?" Then I heard my doctor's voice and said, "Oh, there's Doctor Name, so I must not be in Heaven." He heard me and cracked up laughing. (Excellent doctor and very nice guy.)