Sunday, January 22, 2006

Dream Visit to "The Doctor"

My foot hurts, so hubby will take me to the doctor. (Like many dreams, I do not see him, but know the muddy male, as if seen in peripheral vision, is my real life husband, not one of those dream family members -- you know the ones you don't recognize but in the dream they are your husband, even if they are your Uncle Sal, your old gym teacher, or whatever. Nope, I know this is my real husband.)

As we drive in the car, I ask where he is taking me. He laughs and says "To the doctor."

"I know," I reply, "but which one?"

He laughs harder & says "Here in Fargo, when someone says 'The Doctor' that's just what they mean -- there is only one doctor, silly." (This is curious, as it is more something that I would say -- mocking his hometown -- than he would say.)

As we move towards a building, he mocks me for not recognizing The Doctor's Office, as we've surely been here before.

Upon entering, I sit down in the waiting room. My foot is throbbing, so I take off my shoe to relieve some pressure. I twist my foot so that I can look at the area that hurts -- on the ball of my right foot, mid-point between the piggy who had none & the piggy who cried 'wee-wee-wee' all the way home, I see a dot, perhaps the size of a small planters wart.



The nurse comes to the waiting room, and leads us to an exam room -- as I get closer to the exam room, the hallway turns and I recognize this section of the hallway which leads to yet another waiting area. I comment that I recognize The Doctor's Office now, and both hubby & the nurse patronizingly smile at me, as if I am not too bright. As I sit in the exam room with hubby, I tell him that surely I am allowed to not recognize a building we were in once before when we had entered from the other side... He is not convinced.

A few minutes later, hubby leaves (to see where the Doc is, I am guessing, and I think he carries my right shoe, as it is nowhere to be seen from this point on), and I am alone in the exam room.

Even in dreams waiting seems to be forever. In the dream I counsel myself that surely with only one doctor, there are many more seriously injured persons than myself, so I must be prepared to wait. More time passes. Eventually, I get up & wander toward the waiting room that I recognized.

This waiting room is vastly different than the waiting room I was first in, and in fact like no other waiting room I have ever heard of -- all the seating is full size beds, complete with double rows of pillows and dark blue comforters. (In the dream I do not think this is odd.)

I sit on the edge of the first bed I come to (I guess because my foot hurts, but I am not thinking of it at this point.) As soon as I sit, I hear giggling. As I have sat on the end of the bed, I turn behind me to see a young couple, a man & a woman, under the covers, heads smiling on the pillows. I quickly apologize, in a mumbley way, and scurry to the next bed & sit on it's edge. As it is positioned parallel to the first bed, I sit facing the bed with the young couple. But my foot now hurts so badly, that I bend to look at it.

I no longer need to twist it to look at the bottom, for something has changed:



Yes, apparently, my right baby-toe is now a penis -- or at least has some growth on it, made of flesh, which looks very, Very much like a penis...

Oddly, this does not alarm me. I am fascinated, yes, and look at it for a long time, but do not touch it. (Can ya blame me?)

Obviously now bored with such a trifle of a foot disorder, I place my hands, palm down behind me, and sit back a bit, relaxed. The minute I do this, I feel fur & what feels like little tiny kitten teeth on my left wrist (You think by now I'd have learned to look in these waiting-room-beds prior to sitting on them, but apparently not.) Without looking (so far I feel the only message in this dream is "Look around you, stupid!") I reach behind me and pull out what I believe to be a kitten.

Accompanied by a chorus of giggles from bed number one, my left hand delivers to the front of my face not a kitten, but a baby raccoon. I'm a bit surprised by this, so we'll forgive me as I slowly realize that the giggling female part of the couple is speaking. "We brought all our raccoons with us" she says laughingly and buries her smiling face in the chest of her male bed partner.

It's then that I slowly twist my body to look behind me, and there, on the bed, is a pile of small, or young, raccoons. There must be 20, or 40 of 'em.



I don't think this is weird, just very cool, and I feel lucky to find them there. I begin to play with them all, as if they were a box full of free kittens. I play, they nibble & pounce, as the girl in yonder bed continues to giggle.

Hubby returns, he seems a bit distracted or irritated by my being here -- be it the 'bedroom waiting area' or the fact that I left the exam room, I cannot tell. He motions for me to come to him. I, too enthralled with the fun & cuddly raccoons, motion for him to come to me. (I think he is carrying my shoe, but again, he's sort of blurry.)

Upon meeting me at the bed, he says we should go to the exam room again. I say "But honey, when have you ever seen such an abundance of raccoons?" in a voice that speaks of both my wonder at the animals and my disappointment that he is not enjoying the critters too.

He sort of frowns, and my toe does hurt... so I follow him back to the exam room.

When we get there, I lift my foot to the exam table and show (hubby? the nurse? the doctor finally? I have no idea) my deformed toe. But now the penis has changed...

(Men, & other squeamish folks, stop reading, I implore you!)

Now, my right baby-toe is almost to normal size, but it is very, Very clear that the head has been, err, blown off... if you can (and want to) try to imagine where the line around the penis shaft is, the line a circumcised male has, which shows where his hood was? Well at that line, there is a bloody stump, with a loose balloon of skin -- it looks as if the whole head was one large blister, and it popped, the explosion leaving just the shaft, or in this case, my regular but slightly swollen baby-toe plus a bit of extra skin & blood.

Oh, and it doesn't hurt. At all.

The End.


So, what does it mean...?

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2 Comments:

Blogger Fantasy Writer Guy said...

Wow! That is truly a fascinating story. And funny. I enjoyed it emmensely right up til the part where the baby toe grew up to be something else altogether. I got a little uncomfortable then (tee-hee)!

I'm jealous that some people can dream like that. My dreams - at least the ones I remember - are all re-makes of "Farenheit 451" or "1984" in essence. I'm always running around in some morbid sci-fi world being chased by "authorities" and I have the vague knowledge that I'm the last rebel who hasn't been assimilated into a non-creative unthinking society of automatons. Weird huh? Hope it's not prophetic. I don't look forward to that day.

Well, there's those dreams plus the ones about this 26 year old hottie that I know - but I can't say much about those.

I'm resistant to the idea that dreams hold meaning, strictly out of fear. I'd be awful nervous knowing I was my own crystal ball.

Although I heard a great arguement just last night that drug induced hallucinations are probably what originally spurred homosapiens to very suddenly become creative creatures and that hallucinatory visions hold much value and are key to the human race's capacity to evolve - that we may be stunting our own evolution due to our shunning of hallunatory drugs. I wonder what you think of that?

I see you've customized your blog page very nicely. Must learn how to do that.

Looking forward to more dream stuff from you.

Cheers...

4:02 PM  
Blogger MoviesInMyMind said...

You must think I rude for not replying sooner, but I was away (I could activate your comment via email, but didn't have time to reach the blog)

In any case, please accept my apologies, and we'll get back to the conversation!

I imagine that for every male reader of this blog, that when they discover my toe's status they cringe. And if they reach the end of the dream, they collectively slap their legs together in that protective manner one sees over & over again in movie theatres when a man takes a hit in the crotch ;)

I was once resistant to dreams meaning anything. But then I turned 15 or 16 and had too many prophetic dreams to discount. Since then, I've been a wonder at other folks dreams (as well as tarot). Apparently I see & understand others far better than myself. Odd. But perhaps this is why my dreams must be so strange: they must beat me over the head with bricks (or put genetalia upon my feet) for me to pay attention.

...I think we'll end up discussing hallucinations far more often than I'd prefer to, so I think I'll go & stop in at your blog :p

10:37 PM  

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