Stressful Days and Nights.

I had a long and disturbing dream last night. I dreamt that someone moved into my house to share it, and soon they were followed by a tribe of visitors who filled the house with their presence and noise, occupied my most sacred spaces, and began breaking things that were precious to me. No amount of protest had the slightest effect and I was helpless in the face of the onslaught.

I woke up and tried to write it down for a blog post, but the words wouldn’t come and what form it should take confused me to the point of mental arrest. And then I woke up for real. I know what little incident triggered this dream and I know there’s nothing I can do about the future prospects related to it.

*  *  *

This morning I had a phone call from the hospital giving me a date for my next procedure. It’s a minimum three day affair and they tell me I shouldn’t drive for four weeks afterwards. I live in the countryside with no public transport and no close support, so I need to make such preparation as I can for this eventuality. The date they gave me amounted to too short notice, so I had to decline it and request a longer period. I’m waiting for the call back.

But the real problem with the procedure is this: It will have one of three outcomes:

1. It could fail to solve the problem it’s meant address.

2. It could give me a new lease of life.

3. It could finish me, and that isn’t an exaggeration.

So I’m very nervous about it. Is that surprising?