Bad Dream 144 -- Morning of 4/24/21

In my dream, I have just shown up at a camp of some sort.  In the woods -- a pleasant place to be -- with the aroma of the evergreen trees permeating most everything.  It is evening.  

I walk into a fairly large room -- maybe 30 feet on a side -- which has been set up as a "bunk house" for maybe eight or ten people.  And there are at least five or six people in the room at the moment.  All men.  Different sizes and ages and faces.  They seem to know each other by the chitchat they're sharing, and I guess I am known to them and they to me, because no introductions seem to be necessary.  And no one comes over to me to welcome me.  I know that I'm the last one to show up for whatever it is that we've come here for. 

It seems that everyone in the room is setting aside the day's activities and is at the starting point to getting ready for bed.  But everyone is still dressed in their street clothes.  Everyone has chosen their bed, and there are a variety of beds scattered across the room.  Some look quite sumptuous and others almost austere.  Understandably, being the last one to arrive, my bed is the least desirable: a very simple Army-variety of cot.  Single mattress maybe 4 inches thick on a metal network suspended on the edges with coiled springs.  

The chatter around me continues and little if any attention is paid to me.  It's all quite chummy.  They assume I understand what's going on and can take care of myself.  And maybe there's nothing really they could do to help me anyway.  

I can resign myself to the bed -- I've slept on these things before -- but I'm concerned about who's going to snore, which would certainly keep me awake.  And I don't like the position of my bed, which is towards the middle of the room.  I see space in the far corner, which would have the advantages of keeping me out of traffic, maybe a little less noise, and putting me closer to the windows.  The windows are on both walls near my corner, and there's a wonderfully cool and fragrant breeze travelling between them.  With all these grown-up men's bodies in this one room, a cool and fragrant breeze will be a blessing.  Yup, I'm fortunate to have this space for me!  So I pick up my cot (fortunately, being so simple, it's also lightweight) and carry it over to my corner.

The pleasant chatter continues and no one seems to be making arrangements to get to sleep.  I begin to wonder if anyone will get to sleep at all... 

I begin to consider how I will settle down for sleep myself, even if no one else in the room is going to do that.  I notice that there is a simple wall lamp attached to one of the walls that should shine a light directly over the place where I intend to lay my head.  Yay!  A reading lamp that shouldn't bother anyone else in the room!  

I reach up to turn the light on -- really just to test that the light works -- and it falls off the wall.  It had been held in place with two screws into the drywall without anchors.  So the screws simply pulled cones of drywall out with them when the lamp fell.  Meaning that the remaining holes are much larger in diameter than the screws, making the screws useless.  And there are no tools around to be had.  

I start to search for some other method of supporting the lamp.  I had felt so fortunate in having the lamp, I'm reluctant to give it up.  

Bad Dream 143 -- Morning of 4/23/21

I think context is important to understand what this dream was all about.  The dream happened on a Friday morning.  The previous Tuesday, I had a "Fusion MRI Prostate Biopsy" checking on the possibility of prostate cancer.  It was full, but relatively light anesthesia, and I felt pretty good immediately afterwards.  Deb drove me home, as it was required that I would not drive a car for 24 hours after the procedure.  But I felt that, if I had to drive, I could do so in safety.

On the way home, I became increasingly uncomfortable -- feeling a bit woozy and experiencing pain in my buttocks.  It got worse.  I asked Deb to stop at the Wawa we were approaching, and she said "Fine.  It give me a chance to pick up some milk."  I just wanted to get out in the fresh air and straighten my back.  She got out of the car to start walking in, and I got out of the car just because I felt so uncomfortable being in it.  I leaned up against the car, as I felt uncomfortable just being on my feet without support.  I felt a series of "intgernal subroutines" failing, just giving up, and thought to myself "I wonder if this is how it feels to die?"  The next thing I knew, I was on the ground and maneuvering my hands on the pavement to get back on my feet. So I didn't die, but I certainly did black out for a few moments.  

After getting fully erect, I felt better, got back into the car, and we drove home without further incident.  (BTW, Deb didn't get the milk.  Thought looking after me was more important.)   But that question about "Is this how people die?" has stayed with me.  This series of internal shut-downs over which I had no control...

Anyway, to the dream.  This is only a fragment of a dream, but I think it of value to document:

In what I remember of my dream, I am outside of a house.  It is a very pleasant evening with a moderate temperature and light breeze.  I can see a few streetlights as well as houselights in this quiet suburban neighborhood.  I think there was some kind of family/friends gathering inside the house that was just breaking up, and that I had been in that gathering.  And I'm fairly sure that Martha was also part of that gathering. 

I am walking towards the street where there is at least one car parked -- and I would need a ride to get home.  It's my brother David's first car -- the one that Dad gave him -- a Chevy Nova (I think) which was too small for most stuff and barely running.  It was only David's energy and insight as to what the car needed to keep going that kept it running.  And David was proud of his accomplishment, and justifiably so.  

I got into the car, which was a bit tricky, as the car was so small.  But once I got in, it was fine.  And David was nearby and I expected him to get in and drive me home.  All would be well.

I was then called to by other people, including Martha, that their car was also available to take me home.  But I decided to stay with David in his car.  

And what concerns me about this dream is that David died a number of years ago from prostate cancer. And the energy and insight that he applied to his car he also applied to himself as treatment after treatment almost worked...  So what, if anything, does it mean that I decided to stay in David's car??