Pancake Breakfast

Dream 1/23/17

     The nurse at my dialysis treatment center has asked me to help her. She brings me to my old, childhood church in Anderson, Indiana. Several people are here. They are preparing for a pancake breakfast fundraiser for the youth group. My nurse has me go to the shed behind the church. There she has a machine that holds a piece of flat putty. I then take a hot knife and cut the putty into pieces. I don't know what the purpose of this is. Eventually, I go inside the church and help the youth group set up for the fundraiser. Dream ends.

I wake up

The Art of War

Dream 2/7/2016

I've joined America's ARMY. They've shipped me off to a foreign land. I'm not sure what country I'm in. All I know is I am near Germany.

I'm heading up a team of undercover agents. They fill several seats apart from each other in a European diner. The mission is undisclosed. I walk down the aisle of the diner eyeing every agent. Speaking with a look. They know what to do.  Bullets shred through the diner walls leaving dust and debris everywhere. We've been compromised. The agents get up and try to escape. I help everyone that I can.

I walk through the barracks and find my bed. I lie down. The Soldiers are called to attention. I stay in bed. I peek through my covers and see the soldiers standing like statues at the end of their beds. The leader walks in. He questions why I am in bed. The others vouch for me being sick.

My kidneys don't work so I have to dialyze my blood. My nurse, Laurie, is here, she too is a soldier. A nurse I have never seen comes to my bedside and shoves a needle the size of a roofing nail into my arm. It's clear she doesn't know my access as she is pushing the needle in the wrong direction. She gives up and tells me to do it myself. I ask Laurie to do it. She comes over and fixes what the other nurse royally screwed up. Blood starts pumping through the line.

We are all awakened by the sound of gunfire. I undo my dialysis lines. The needle is still in my arm. I grab a handgun and move toward the window where Laurie has a sniper rifle. We start taking out men who encroach on our position. I find that my handgun is not effective for long range. I grab a rifle and one man at a time, I shoot. I kill many of them. We fight until the job is done. Dream ends

"It makes no difference what men think of war, said the judge. War endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting the ultimate practitioner." -Cormac McCarthy

I wake up

Dialysis Nightmare

Dream 7-17-14

  Walking into the building, I notice a lovely fountain in the middle of the room, the open lobby spans from the first floor to the fourth. The stairs spiral all the way up much like a Frank Lloyd Wright design. The Dialysis floor is one floor down, in the basement. I wait for my turn. The nurse tells me that I am in the wrong clinic. "But this is the dialysis clinic?" I say. She tells me that it is one of two, the other is on the top floor and it's the bad clinic. I wonder what she meant by "bad clinic."

     I walk the stairs to the fourth floor. When I enter the clinic, I find a line of people, a lot of people, waiting for their treatment. Their are only two nurses and two seats. About fifteen people wait four hours for each patient to finish dialyzing. When it is finally my turn, which is days, I sit in the seat and wait to be stuck by the needle. The nurses are usually very gentle and make the process as painless as possible. Today is different. Different nurses, different technique. The nurse takes the needle (which is the size of of crochet needle) and stabs it into my arm. I let out a scream. She misses the fistula. She yanks the needle out of my arm, raises it above her head and brings it down into my arm once again. She misses once more. Dream ends.

I wake up.

Dialysis

Dream 2-21-14

( I had this dream while at Dialysis.)

I'm sitting in my chair at Dialysis. I'm on my laptop. I have a few tabs open on the internet. When nobody is looking, I switch over to pornography. Just then, one of the nurses comes over to check my Dialysis machine. I try to switch back from the porn but my computer glitches. Part of the screen is social media and the other is porn. The nurse looks over but doesn't say anything. I'm unsure if she knows. I tried to hide it as much as I could. Shame washes over me.

Later on inside the four hour treatment, I move over to the other side of the room to hang out with some friends. There is a kid here that is what some would call a nerd. His name is Kenny. He wrote a children's book about his home state of Arizona. My friends and I begin to read it, laughing as we go along. We come to a page that reads, "I enjoy having sex. This is a rollercoaster that sits next to a lava lake near my house." We break down in laughter. "This guy is a horrible writer," one of us says aloud. Dream ends.

I wake up.