Re: Beekeeper's Adventures in Consciousness
It looks like there was a point to the recent hospital dreams because that's where I ended up yesterday. I started the day feeling fine, right up to taking Bella for a walk and watching a whale. It was then that my vision started going funny.
Then we were taking H to his game (he'd returned sick from the skills camp but felt he could play some of it - they rely on him a lot). We dropped him off for warm-ups and went to the produce markets. My eyes wouldn't focus right and the auric disturbances had increased. I asked G if we could see if the doctors were open so I could get some Zomig.
They were open but they said I'd have to wait, so G sent F (our eldest) to sit with me for a while and went off to watch H. I sat with my eyes closed listening for my name.
Long story shorter, G replaced F and began what turned out to be something of a vigil. I was given a bag and was copiously sick. Then I asked for the bathroom, where I was sick some more. The doctor was saying things about my heart and dehydration and neurology and I was too out of it to care. My head hurts so much when I'm having a migraine that I'm always privately sure I'm having a stroke. It didn't help that the first time I had one, 14 years ago while I was expecting my youngest, this was the doctor's diagnosis! The paramedic was partiicularly kind, being a migraine sufferer herself and kept crooning soft words of comfort.
The docor called an abulance that took two hours to come. G was upset and kept saying he'd take me but the doctor wouldn't let him. They took me to the hospital, the ambulance men were really kind and I was sick again. There were a lot of questions from hospital staff whom I answered often without opening my eyes. There was torch light in my eyes, warm blankets (I was so cold), hospital noise, needles and an IV. I was there until 9pm. Poor G spent the entire time by my bed. At one stage our friend Phil who works there as a radiographer had a coffe with him.
My doctor was an Asian lady, Chinese I think. Towards the end, she sat beside me and spoke gently, ascertaining certain things. She told me about a woman she'd recently seen who'd had symptoms like mine who'd had an enormous brain tumour. She explained they'd been weighing up a lumbar puncture and a cat scan for me and said if my symptoms continued I'd have to return for these . She wanted to know if I'd had any falls (I'd tripped that morning walking down a ramp with washing because our back deck isn't built yet but hadn't hit my head) or memory lapses. G told her that in the last two weeks I'd kept forgetting things mid-sentence but I explained this often resulted from me from having too much too to do.
Later she spoke to me again and her energy felt like that of the Chinese vendor from the previous night's dream. G was somewhere else, apparently, because I'd asked him if he'd heard the conversation. She began telling me how she admired teachers and that she wouldn't be where she was without a particular teacher. I told her that I admired doctors and also that I liked being a teacher, that I'd met some exceptional people that way. Then she looked a few moments in my eyes and said, "I like your face, you're really pretty." It seems odd now, but it didn't then. I liked her face too and when women in our 40s say things like that to each other, we know it means something different to when you say it to a 20 something. It was like the Chinese DC calling me "A really nice lady."
P.s. This has taken ages to type because my eyes are still acting weird.
"A dream is a question, not an answer."
(Therapist and dreamworker Strephon Kaplan
Williams)
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