And where does the information for the reboot come from?
Duh, the cloud.
From memories etc.
But that is in the brain also, right? Why doesn’t anaesthesia reboot the part of the brain storing memories etc.?
Because they are physically stored. Consciousness isn’t; consciousness is an emergent property of complex neuron activity.
There’s your misconception. Memories aren’t physically stored. When neuron activity stops, memory disappears.
Really?
HOPE!
This is incorrect.
Can someone verify that memory is erased upon cessation of neuron activity? This would be a very consoling fact.
Not pissed…just hurt and a tad disappointed. 
(imagine tiny teardrops on the emoticon’s face)
Just joshing with you Trinopus, ol’ chap. And sorry, I didn’t think you’d consider “Mr. Persnickety-Snickerman” a particularly rude name. If I ever do get angry with you (and I doubt I will), I’ll call you something much more vile and harsh, like, “Mr. Poopie-Pants.” And, I did include this: :D, which universally suggests jesting intent.
And for future reference, on the rare occasions that I’m not posting something brilliant and thought provoking, remember, I’m just kidding around.
Easy, we just have to reverse the arrow of time.
I believe there is at least one elusive difference between the mind of an aging brain with real SA/PI continuity vs. the mind of a post-transported brain (or one fitting the common materialist model), and it is theoretically possible to test for the difference (s).
In my model, the SA/PI of a transported brain ceases to exist at the point of particle disassembly (and does not re-exist intact after reassembly), but that of a non-transported brain will continue to survive intact over time. The materialist model, to my understanding, seems to take one of two flavors: 1) SA/PI will continue equally into both the transported and non-transported brain, or 2) SA/PI will continue into neither the transported or non-transported brain (e.g. you die every moment because your consciousness is simply a string of “freeze frames” giving the illusion of continuity). Either way, the materialist model may be extrapolated to posit there is no difference between the transported and non-transported brain, while I say there is a difference.
Admittedly, testing for the difference is difficult. You can’t simply interview the post-transported guy because he will have a valid SA/PI and having all the memories of the pre-transported brain there is nothing you can ask him that he doesn’t know about the original, and he believes in his heart that he is the original, as does everyone else. The only person who knows for sure is the pre-transported guy after transportation. But you can’t ask him because (in my model) he will be dead. Since you gave me free reign on using any conceivable method for testing, I could just say that heaven exists and we have the ability to interview dead people.
But, keeping this out of the realm of woo, let’s instead reverse the arrow of time and interview both the transported guy and the non-transported guy after the fact (which is really before the fact):
Ask the transported guy (NTG): do you have any memories from before (after) you were transported at 12-noon? Materialist model: he will say “yes” (if flavor #1), or “no” (if flavor #2). My model: he will say “no.”
Ask the non-transported guy (NTG): do you have any memories from before (after) you were not transported at 12-noon? Materialist model: he will say yes (if flavor #1), or no (if flavor #2). My model: he will say “yes.”
So, there is the demonstrable difference: Whether “yes” or “no” the materialist model gives the same response. In my model, they give different responses.
Maybe this test would work better with a time machine: have pre-transported guy travel to a time just past transportation then have him travel back to the present and ask him if he was conscious in the future.
Here’s a test for another difference I believe exists between the materialist model and mine:
My model: assuming a perfect, healthy, non-delusional brain, a person’s memories reference real events and will have no memories of events that defy physical law.
Materialist model: assume a transported (Star Trek style) brain is no different than a brain assembled from the same type and arrangement of particles anywhere in the universe. So, you could be replicated on a planet a million light years away from Earth. You would have memories of being on Earth the moment before perceiving the alien planet, but those memories can’t be referencing real events, because it defies physical law (as we know it thus far).
So, find one person who remembers being on a planet a million light years away and bingo, you’ve falsified my thesis! Ball’s now in your court. 
Which is why I’ve begun adoption proceedings for LifeSucks. First thing I’ll do is change his name to LifeIsBeautiful and buy him a dog.
It’s complex, and not entirely well known, but this is a start:
Actually, it didn’t do much to qualm my fears. Everything I’ve said is still possible and indeed plausible.
You have presented nothing to support the notion that the brain can be rebooted.
Consciousness gets rebooted. It’s not hard to see how this is the case.
Do you know what “rebooted” means?
Consciousness does not get rebooted. Your brain is not a computer.
When undergoing GA:
Conscious ----> Consciousness shuts down ----> Consciousness resumes.
I’m guessing someone will mention sleep now.
Why would you conclude that loss of consciousness triggers a complete reboot of the brain?
Ok, not sleep. Being knocked unconscious, Hollywood style, blow to the head. Or how about a seizure? Or how about drinking alcohol until you pass out? All of these interrupt consciousness without causing true sleep. And none of them cause the brain to shut down or reboot, just like anesthesia doesn’t.
What is it about anesthesia, in particular, that you find so worrisome? People lose consciousness in many, many ways. And in none of them is brain activity, electricity, neural firing or synaptic response halted, except in death.
Memories are created by changing neurons. That includes growing new connections and changing the chemical composition at the connections so that they will be more likely to fire when another neuron fires. This does not go away when there are no electrons flowing through that neuronal circuit.
If a cessation of neuronal activity allowed memories to evaporate, then every time you weren’t remembering something, that particular memory would be lost, because every time that you’re not actively remembering something, that neuronal circuit/network is inactive.
The brain remains active under GA, although sometimes when discussing anesthesia, the word inactive is used in an unfortunate way. The brain is active enough that sometimessmall children are put under GA when they need to have an MRI, because they’re too young or worried to stay still long enough to get a good scan. If any part of the brain completely shut down, the scan would not produce usable results.
In this imaging study, the effect of anesthesia was described as sending areas of the brain into “slow wave” activity, similar to what happens during sleep. More and more areas would become slow wave, until a maximum number of areas was reached, after which more anesthetic did not result in more areas becoming slow.
Although this article and others use the word “inactivated,” you can tell that they don’t mean no neurological signals. “Inactive” is unfortunately often used when what they mean is that an area has been slowed as much as is needed for anesthesia to be effective. Because that’s their preoccupation - how can you tell when anesthesia is fully in effect. They’re not thinking that someone reading their quote might mistakenly think that there is no electrical activity in that area, because none of them would ever think that.
This study scanned the brains of volunteers while giving anesthetic so slowly that it took 45 minutes, rather than a few seconds, to reach unconsciousness. They found that no notable areas of the brain shut down, although most areas slowed. Also, the cognitive areas of the brain were still communicating with most other areas. It was the sensory cortex and some other, peripheral areas that the cognitive areas were not communicating with.
Clicking through the hyperlink “anaesthetised brain,” gets you to another article. The best quote from there is:
I don’t know if that addresses your concern. You mentioned that consciousness is an emergent property, and I agree. However, I don’t think of it as something that the brain has, so much as it’s something that the brain does. In fact a few brain areas have been associated with various components of consciousness, and if those areas are damaged, some very odd things result.
Unfortunately, what conscioiusness is is still up for grabs, academically. As an instance, my awareness of self is muted or, possibly, gone if I lose myself in a good book. Does that mean that the part of my brain that forms my sense of self has dimmed or shut off? Technically speaking, there’s no way to tell.
We can experience an awareness of self (which goes away when we enter non-REM sleep or attend long committee meetings), but whether we directly experience consciousness or not is arguable. Personally, I’m happy with the dimmer switch idea. But then, I was happy to agree with whoever said that they’d be happy being the same molecules.
For me, emotionally, if consciousness is what the brain does, and it’s the same brain, it’s me. Sort of like, if it’s the same candle, it’s functionally the same flame, even if it got blown out once or twice. But if you ‘transported’ the candle, so that a new candle, complete with flame, was built at the other end, I’d be likely to call that a different flame.
To extend the metaphor to anesthesia: that would be, say, putting the candle into a low oxygen cabinet, so that the flame became very small, but did not go out, and then opening the cabinet after candle surgery. If that works for you, cool. If, for you, to be true consciousness, the flame has to extend the whole length of the exposed wick, rather than just flickering around the tip: shrug. The flame is a process, not a static thing.
For me, anesthesia was scary in that it was a direct experience of there being no subjective me when there was no brain with a certain level of activity. I didn’t worry that the new subjective me wasn’t the same subjective me. I just got a visceral feeling that this was a preview of dying, which is inevitable.
We’re used to sleep. It’s easy to ignore because it’s always been there. Being new, and different, anesthesia grabs the attention in a way that sleep can’t.
And I’m rambling. I hope everything turns out well for you. You probably won’t be very worried as you’re being wheeled to surgery. They give you a sedative before that happens. Because being put to sleep is scary. And surgery is scary. And things go smoother if they take the edge off.
Worrying is dead straight natural, and if this is the form your worry is taking, then it is what it is. What I said might be helpful or it might be nit-picking. Either way, I hope things go well for you.