Monday, February 05, 2007
The other night I had a bizarre dream. Why can't I have nice pleasant dreams like Bandit? What do you think of this one?
A friend of mine was lying next to me on my sister's couch. I had a pain in my side. When I looked down at my abdomen, by my belly button, I noticed a stitch apparently left over from some prior surgery. I pulled it at. It was long and went much deeper than it looked from the outside. I could feel the pull from deep within my stomach. I yanked it out. It felt gross. My friend lay beside me watching, making sure I was alright.
Then I found another stitch and then another. Each time my friend watched. Finally, seeing no more external stitches I thought they were all gone. Yet I still felt a pain deep inside. Finally, my friend, with his bare hands, went into my side. It didn't hurt. From inside he pulled out a long drainage tube apparently left behind from surgery. He knew I couldn't go in and get it myself. Only he could. Besides he was in the medical field; It didn't bother him. After he pulled it out, on my side I felt a small hole, no bigger than a dime, from which I could feel warm liquid coming out. I covered it up with my hands to prevent it from staining the couch. I thought I was hemorrhaging blood. I ran to the bathroom. At the bathroom sink I let my hand away from the hole to allow whatever was inside me out. A warm burst of steam, air and smelly water emerged. I let it drain into the bathroom sink. As dreams have a funny way of doing - at least mine do - my friend who was now beside me at the sink suddenly turned into X. I stopped draining. I looked at my stomach. It had been physically bloated and uncomfortable but was now pretty much back to normal. I felt much better.
I left the bathroom and head back to the living room where I found my friend (no longer X) now cleaning up after me. There was a bit of a mess from pulling stitches and what not out of me. The couch had some, but not as much as I expected, blood stains. My friend had already taken the pillowcases off the pillows, Shouted them out and was throwing them into my sister's wash machine. As he placed the sheets into the wash machine, he looked up at me and smiled.
Wow, that was weird. Writing this out actually brought up a flood of emotions. The symbolism revealing. "Bandit! Get Daddy a tissue!"
Posted by Rick Bettencourt at 6:03 AM