How Dreams Can Land You in the E.R.

Yesterday, Lonnie drove me to St. Luke's E.R. Care Center because since probably late Tuesday night/early Wednesday morning, I'd been having what felt like sharp pains in my upper right side and my right "breasti-cal." The most it hurts is when I lay down on my back, but over the previous few days (since Wednesday), the pain would crawl up my arm, up to my neck sometimes, my shoulder, even my elbow, wrist and hand, all on the right side.

I figured, maybe it's carpal tunnel syndrome gone haywire. On the fifth day of this pain, I'd had it and decided to have it checked out.

GREAT PEOPLE at St. Luke's, too. Love them. Anyway, after all the preliminary stuff (blood pressure, temp, paperwork which is now entered directly into a laptop on wheeled cart), the doctor came in, mushed around a bit (which hurt like HELL), and then said he thought it was a severely pulled muscle. When he asked me pointed questions about whether I'd one any heavy lifting or had sudden jars to that area of the body, I could not give him an answer. He ordered x-rays just to make sure it was nothing more.

As Lonnie and I are waiting on the x-ray results, we sat there pondering what the HECK could've caused this if it was indeed just a pulled muscle--one that hurt like hell, but still--a pulled muscle.

And then it hit us: it was the night I'd had "THAT DREAM".

On Sunday night, exactly a week prior to my E.R. visit, I'd had this biZARRE dream. I was in a cave at the beach. I walked out from the cave and onto the beach. There were quite a few people there, and it was a beautiful day, clear blue skies, beautiful blue water, and white sand.

When I looked behind me, away from the beach, there was a huge mountain, and I decided I'd like to climb it. So I go on my trek up the mountain, on a fairly steep "ramp" of a hiking trail. Suddenly, the dirt and sand covered ramp was now covered in snow. The further I hiked up the path, the more it snowed, and because of that, I actually slipped and fell crashing into the now snow-covered beach where a little Indian boy, about 6 or 7, had buried himself in the sand, which was now snow. Only his head and feet were visible from underneath the snow. His parents watched in horror as I slid down and accidentally knocked into the little boy. I did not injure him whatsoever. He was fine. The next thing I knew, the little Indian boy was out from under his "snow burial" (did I pull him out? I have no clue). I was holding him under his arms, dangling right out in front of me. He put his hands on my cheeks, these tiny hands on my face, and said, "I'm going to kill you" in a very nice, yet disturbing and creepy voice.

I apologized profusely to him and his parents for accidentally running into him, and then I went back into the cave. Turns out, the cave was actually the entrance to some sort of beach condo/dorm-like living resort. Although I did not feel scared or nervous from the little boy's threats, when I got back to my dorm-like condo "living space" in the cave, I hurriedly gathered my most precious belongings (mainly toiletries and clothes, but they seemed sentimental in the dream for some odd reason--especially since I didn't take any truly precious things like my jewelry, for example). I dumped them all into a duffel bag, and as soon as I was done, I looked up and saw the little Indian boy at my door. He was wearing nothing (yes, NOTHING) but a plain white t-shirt. You know how toddlers will run around in a diaper and a t-shirt? Well, this little boy had just the t-shirt. (I'm sure your Freudian wheels are turning like mad right now, but get your mind out of the gutter!)

This boy was MAD now. The scowl on his face would scare away any evil that lurked in my area. I've never seen that scrunched up of a face before on a child except possibly when the child is tasting something so nasty. But this face was even worse. The little boy started charging me because, as he stated earlier, he was going to kill me.

I would not, COULD not, let that happen.

"Angie!! Angie!!! You're hitting me!!!!" Lonnie shouted. I barely woke up in time to realize I had been beating the crap out of Lonnie's arm with my right arm.

And there you have it: how dreams can land you in the E.R.

-a-
P.S.We have laughed and laughed and laughed about this, and of course you KNOW Lonnie has milked it, if only in a joking way. His comment to me later that day was, "Why'd you beat me up? All I ever did was love you." ;-)

P.S.S.The x-rays were all normal, so it definitely is just a severely pulled muscle. The doctor gave me three prescriptions: one is an anti-inflammatory, the second is a muscle-relaxer, and the third--AS IF MY OWN DREAMS WITH NO DRUGS WEREN'T BIZARRE ENOUGH--was for Vicodin. Needless to say, I'm NOT getting the third one filled at all. =)