dreams

First, a timeline. I broke my ankle on June 19 (a day before my 71st birthday). For a variety of reasons, we didn't find out it was broken until a week later. I had surgery on July 3. At my next doctor visit (August 15), if all goes well, I will have my cast removed and get a boot, which will allow me to walk. I've been confined to the house for almost a month now (can't put weight on ankle, not using crutches etc.). Even that sounds better than it is ... I am actually restricted to my bed and the commode.

It's not as bad as I make it out to be. It's the modern world, after all. There's a TV and Spotify and Siriusxm, I can watch movies and read, I have my cell phone (using it to write this). People bring me meals and everyone is very nice to me. When I get bored, I can always do my physical therapy rehab, and if all else fails, I still have one last Oxy pill.

Ah, but my dreams. Almost every one involves me moving, walking, even flying, going places, interacting with the world. And at some point in every dream, I remember that I am stuck in my bed, and I wake up.

Tonight I dozed off with MSNBC playing in the background. Before I went to sleep, I passed the time on Facebook, where I checked in on an old acquaintance I haven't seen in decades, charming guy, very smart and learned and a bit contrary. I fell asleep to the sounds of my wife snoring (she has just finished months of cancer surgery, chemo, and radiation, and she is getting better but she's tired, and she still has to take care of her invalid husband).

In my dream, my wife and I are at some political discussion. She is sitting with the aforementioned acquaintance, I am lying on the floor so I don't have to walk anywhere. The host of the discussion, who seems to be from MSNBC, introduces a guest who is an expert on the affairs of the day. She is sitting near me. The moderator asks her a question, but before she can reply, the acquaintance begins a long monologue about the topic. The guest smiles politely, but I am close enough to her that I can hear that she is snoring throughout his monologue.

At this point, the host says we will go to a commercial, after which we will continue the discussion on a special edition of Morning Joe. And I wake up, realizing it was all a dream, and the snoring I was hearing came not from the expert, but from my wife.

And for some reason, I feel obliged to grab my phone and write this blog post, so in the future, I will have a record of what life has been like for me the last month.

Comments

[Robin]

Good one!