I have had very vivid dream since I was a kid. I don’t know why, or why I dream about some things. I don’t believe that dreams hold secret meanings or prophecies. Generally, I believe that dreams are our psyche’s way of relating encounters and memories or even possibly dealing with feelings that we can’t necessarily handle in our daily lives, but last night, I had a dream that was so overwhelming that I woke up with a bittersweet hope, and it faded to bittersweet despair within a minute. It was dream that made me want to close my eyes and hope that it would continue. I wished that I could just transport myself back into that dream and stay there. It stayed with me, and I’ve spent the past day just absorbing it over and over again as it starts to fade from my memory.
So, I’ve been sharing it with my friends, with Tom, etc. And now, I’ve decided to write about it because I hope that I can keep it in the moment of forever, and I hope that maybe I’ll dream about it again. For once, I wish that I did believe that dreams can be prophecies, that they can become reality.
I dreamt that I was a doctor, actually a resident, and we (a group of other residents and an older doctor) were making rounds. We were new, and we were excited to be on the floor. We stopped first in the ER, and a patient was having severe abdominal pain. The older doctor asked, “what do we do in a case of severe abdominal pain? Anyone?” I responded, “Run a full blood panel, a pregnancy test due to the woman’s age, and I would suggest doing an immediate CT scan to check for possible appendicitis or ectopic pregnancy, assuming that they’ve already done a physical of course.”
The doctor in charge was impressed and ordered the testing. In my dream, a patient across the room started to become aggravated. He was waking up from a surgery that repaired a aneurysm in his throat. (I did not even know if that could actually occur, but it turns out it can). He had been intubated, and he did not realize what had happened. He suddenly was waking up in a strange place, in severe pain, and he couldn’t speak. He was trying to get out of bed and go across the room. The nurses were trying to restrain him before he did significant damage. My group was already moving to the next floor, but I stepped in to try to assist the nurses.
Because, I knew what it meant to be sick and afraid, I was able to step in and help this man, Joe, and ease his fears. I was able to lead him back to his bed, explain the situation, and calm him.
I told him that I would take care of him. I would help him. I got him a couple of warm blankets, as they moved him to his actual room, and I gave him my name on a piece of paper. If he needed anything, at any time, he could contact me, just give a note to a nurse. I would do anything that I could to help him.
In that dream, I felt such a huge surge of contentment that it woke me up. It was like I knew this was where I was supposed to be and knew this was what I was supposed to do, and it felt so real. The warmth of the blankets, the color of the florescent lights, every wrinkle of Joe’s face, and his dark brown eyes full of appreciation. It was as if I was really there doing those things, talking to those people. Everything seemed so real, but most importantly the sense of contentment and belonging. Within seconds of waking up, it was like being doused with the cold water of reality. I almost started to cry.
Why did I have that dream? What was the purpose of experiencing that moment in my life, to feel that moment of contentment and then face the reality of what my life is?
There is no greater heartbreak then to see what could have been and face the reality of what is. It is even more bitter to know that this shouldn’t have happened. There were ways to prevent it. There were ways to fix it, and for whatever reason, this happened despite them.
I don’t know what is going to happen in the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but if I can stop CPM/EPM from robbing you of your dreams, I will.