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Entry tags:
dream theater
This morning I got up at about 4:30 to use the bathroom, and when I went back to bed I had the following terrible dream.
I was at the doctor for some reason (non-corona related but important or I wouldn't have been there) that I can't remember anymore. As the appointment was wrapping up, the doctor had left the room but a couple of support staff were still with me, and one of them seemed to be feeling not well - and when we asked her what letter the alphabet began with, she said Q. (In the dream, a reliable indicator of covid-19 was cognitive scrambling.) So I went welp, looks like I've been exposed, and I went out to tell the doctor and ask what I should do now. I texted my husband and started thinking about how to quarantine my 3yo away from me so he wouldn't also get it if, as seemed likely, I had it myself.
The doctor said okay, we'll test you before you go, and we'll have the results in a few hours. I was surprised that he had tests, but okay, back I went to the exam room, where I was already feeling head-swimmy and dizzy. I lay down and felt like I was falling even further backwards, you know how it is when you're falling asleep and get that floating sensation. The doctor said let's check in with a baseline. Do you know what you're wearing on your legs? And he put a hand on my shin. Jeans, I said. Good, he said. And how about above that? Hand on my side. That's my coat, I said. And what's this, he asked. Hand higher up on my side, on my ribs, uncomfortably close to my breast. Still my coat, I said. All right, he said, now I'll look in your nose and mouth, lean your head back - and he was standing between my knees to do this apparent nasal exam. Get out from between my legs, I said, and he wouldn't, and I pushed and kicked until he did, and obviously the exam was over and there was no test. He said something snarly about how he'd almost succeeded, and I'd have eaten his sperm if he'd had another minute, and somehow I understood that the vial he'd claimed was a coronavirus test was a vial of semen? which I guess he'd been intending to swab inside my cheek or throat or both? I tried to throw it at him in the hope it would shatter at his feet (and, I don't know, burn him in a puff of smoke or something?), and then I was storming out of the medical suite - whose floors were not at all level, perhaps hence the dizziness - and telling the receptionist her boss was a very bad man. She just sort of gave me a sad understanding face and
then I woke up with a splitting headache and as is so often the case with the worst dreams, it took a minute before I worked out that none of this had happened. I told Himself about the dream, and he was appropriately sympathetic, and later on when we were downstairs I told the prince I'd woken up with a headache and he said "Oh I'm sorry Mommy! I can give you a hug and kiss, that will help!" which is totally true, and by now (couple of hours vertical, half an episode of Buffy - so about 22 minutes - on the elliptical, one cup of coffee) the headache is mostly gone. But, you know: I can't live with this kind of anxiety the whole time we're on plague watch. If this goes on longer than the initial couple-few weeks we're looking at right now - and it will - the tension is going to have to ease up or that's going to be more dangerous to me than anything else. :-/
I was at the doctor for some reason (non-corona related but important or I wouldn't have been there) that I can't remember anymore. As the appointment was wrapping up, the doctor had left the room but a couple of support staff were still with me, and one of them seemed to be feeling not well - and when we asked her what letter the alphabet began with, she said Q. (In the dream, a reliable indicator of covid-19 was cognitive scrambling.) So I went welp, looks like I've been exposed, and I went out to tell the doctor and ask what I should do now. I texted my husband and started thinking about how to quarantine my 3yo away from me so he wouldn't also get it if, as seemed likely, I had it myself.
The doctor said okay, we'll test you before you go, and we'll have the results in a few hours. I was surprised that he had tests, but okay, back I went to the exam room, where I was already feeling head-swimmy and dizzy. I lay down and felt like I was falling even further backwards, you know how it is when you're falling asleep and get that floating sensation. The doctor said let's check in with a baseline. Do you know what you're wearing on your legs? And he put a hand on my shin. Jeans, I said. Good, he said. And how about above that? Hand on my side. That's my coat, I said. And what's this, he asked. Hand higher up on my side, on my ribs, uncomfortably close to my breast. Still my coat, I said. All right, he said, now I'll look in your nose and mouth, lean your head back - and he was standing between my knees to do this apparent nasal exam. Get out from between my legs, I said, and he wouldn't, and I pushed and kicked until he did, and obviously the exam was over and there was no test. He said something snarly about how he'd almost succeeded, and I'd have eaten his sperm if he'd had another minute, and somehow I understood that the vial he'd claimed was a coronavirus test was a vial of semen? which I guess he'd been intending to swab inside my cheek or throat or both? I tried to throw it at him in the hope it would shatter at his feet (and, I don't know, burn him in a puff of smoke or something?), and then I was storming out of the medical suite - whose floors were not at all level, perhaps hence the dizziness - and telling the receptionist her boss was a very bad man. She just sort of gave me a sad understanding face and
then I woke up with a splitting headache and as is so often the case with the worst dreams, it took a minute before I worked out that none of this had happened. I told Himself about the dream, and he was appropriately sympathetic, and later on when we were downstairs I told the prince I'd woken up with a headache and he said "Oh I'm sorry Mommy! I can give you a hug and kiss, that will help!" which is totally true, and by now (couple of hours vertical, half an episode of Buffy - so about 22 minutes - on the elliptical, one cup of coffee) the headache is mostly gone. But, you know: I can't live with this kind of anxiety the whole time we're on plague watch. If this goes on longer than the initial couple-few weeks we're looking at right now - and it will - the tension is going to have to ease up or that's going to be more dangerous to me than anything else. :-/
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