Door 540

The blade came down. The person lying below it had a name, but the name meant little more to the surgeon than a number. It was what was under the blade that meant something. An incision was made in the back of the head.
After a piece of the skull had been removed, the surgeon peered inside. Through the hole he saw a small dark room, and in it a man sat at a desk. As the surgeon approached the man looked up. "Breakfast or lunch?" the man asked.
The surgeon looked at his watch. Twelve forty-three. "Lunch... I guess."
"Room five forty. Eighth door on the left." the man informed the surgeon, then turned his attention back to filling out some sort of forms.
"Thank you." the surgeon said as he became aware of a door to the right of the man. On it a plaque read, UPSIDE DOWN, and above it was the message "This door is to be locked in case of emergency." The surgeon went through the door.
There was a swimming pool on the other side, and a dog training class was under session in it. Dogs were swimming all about the pool. Some that were better trained made laps from one end to the other, while those just beginning the class paddled along with floats tied to their forelegs.
The surgeon approached the dog trainer and asked her where room five forty might be found. "Eighth door on the left." she answered.
"Thank you." The surgeon said as he noticed the door exiting the pool. Through it he found a hallway lined with windows. Each window was numbered. "Five thirty-two, five thirty-one, five thirty..." The surgeon read along the left side of the hall. I'm going the wrong way. Before turning back the way he came he decided to read the numbers on the right side of the hall. "Four fifty, four fifty-two, four fifty-three... This side of the hall is going the right way, but it's much farther from where I'm going."
The surgeon stood, looking at the door at the far end of the hall (and far it was indeed), then at the door from which he'd come, then at the windows, then back at the door at the far end of the hall. He scratched his head. "Should I start close and move away, or start far and get closer?" Then he laughed at himself. "What nonsense am I speaking. I'm standing with window number five thirty-two to my left, and the numbers on the right side of the hall go up, so where I am is a close start and the numbers I'll follow will get me closer."
The surgeon began walking down the long hall, then stopped. "Wait..." His mind was growing clouded. He looked back to the door from which he came and found a janitor in a white coat standing there, locking it up. The janitor turned and met his gaze, watching him steadily, patiently, and expectantly. "Do you know where room Five forty is?"
"Eighth door on the left." the janitor answered, pointing out window number four fifty, then he began pushing his cart down the hall.
"Thank you."
As the surgeon opened up window number four fifty and climbed through, he noticed that his coat was blue. He didn't remember it having had been blue before.
On the other side of the window the surgeon stood on a balcony, and the floor of that balcony was a flower bed, while the streets below were rivers with banks that were oceans. A short ways off, hanging in the air high above the ocean, there was a line of doors. The doors hung on fishing line and were numbered with Roman numerals.
Looking back through the window the surgeon saw the janitor in the white coat, and it was then that he recognized the coat as his own. The janitor closed the window and locked it. The surgeon pounded on the window, tugged on it to try and open it, and yelled to be let back in, but the janitor seemed unaware of him. As the janitor walked off down the hall, the surgeon followed him along the balcony, running up ahead to the next window to get through it, but just as he came to the next window, there was the janitor locking it. The surgeon ran to the next window only to find the janitor already at that one too, locking it. The surgeon ran from one window to the next, and every window he came to he found the janitor on the other side, locking it.
Finally the surgeon decided to sprint several windows down to try and get to a window before the janitor. The surgeon ran franticly through the flower bed past the windows. When he felt the janitor was sufficiently far behind he stopped to open a window, but to his horror, there was the janitor, locking it before he could get in. Try as he might, the surgeon could not come to a window before the janitor locked it.
Losing hope the surgeon began banging on another window. This time the janitor heard him and looked up. Having his attention the surgeon cried, "Unlock the window!"
The janitor looked past the surgeon and pointed at something behind him. Turning, the surgeon saw door number five forty suspended a ways off by fishing line. When the surgeon looked back, the curtains had been drawn on the windows.
For several long minutes he contemplated how he might cross the expanse of emptiness to reach the door. While he was thus contemplating he heard the sound of a giant bathtub being unplugged, and then the ocean with the river in it below started draining away. Preferring to cross with the water still below, so as to cushion his fall if he fell, he began contemplating harder, wanting to cross sooner rather than later.
The man behind the desk, the dog trainer, and the janitor had all said it was the "Eighth door on the left." considering this, the surgeon realized that facing the way he would have been coming from the way he came, door number five forty was on his right. As such he felt he ought to have found it coming from the other way, so he became curious as to what he'd find on the other end of the flower bed balcony.
Thinking that the answer might bring him closer to crossing to the door, the surgeon began running along, past the windows as he'd done before, seeking what was at the end. Far off, past the place the line of windows ended, a red door could be seen. If door five forty was to be on the left, this red door would have to be the way he would come from. To come from it he first would have to get to it. As he ran, the surgeon passed seven doors. This was encouraging.
Half out of breath with shoes full of dirt and shoelaces entangled with plant matter, he reached the red door. Unlike the windows before it, it was unlocked. Opening the door and going through, he found himself in a familiar dark room.
The man behind the desk asked him, "Back so soon?"
Suddenly the light turned on, and the surgeon saw that the room was his operating room. He found himself sitting in a chair in the corner. The man behind the desk was nowhere to be found. The surgeon’s assistant was operating on the back of the patients head.
"Room five hundred and forty." the surgeon said.
"On the third floor?" his assistant responded.
"I guess."
The surgeons assistant left the room for door number five forty, and the surgeon was left behind with the patient. "We've found it." he said to the person on the table who had a name.
The person turned to face him and replied, "It's not room five forty. That's for lunch. You should have said breakfast."