People don’t usually remember their dreams when they wake up. I can’t relate to that. I have always had very memorable and vivid dreams. Here and there it’ll be a lucid one too. At one point in my life, when I was much younger, I believed that I had two lives. Though I no longer believe that to be the case, sometimes I am reminded of why I thought that for so long. The wonder will never go away, and the feeling of always knowing where I am in my dreams will never stop amazing me. Maybe that’s my outer space.
Here’s what happened last night after I fell asleep without meaning to.
I woke up in a hospital. It was afternoon. There was a faceless but familiar female companion with me. I was in a bed, the kind you went on an ambulance in though, with the wheels, white sheets, blue gown. It was like a waiting room. There were rows and rows of mostly empty beds on wheels in front of and beside me. The doctor came out, white lab coat and white mask. I couldn’t see his whole face, but I knew those eyes and that voice. He said my recovery was going well. However, there were still things they couldn’t diagnose and cure. I didn’t know what I was recovering from, nor what was wrong with me. But my companion seemed to at least have an idea about the former, and nodded to the doctor. Then a nurse came in and prodded my muscles here and there, there were no visible wounds on me, but I did feel sore.
I was brought to a room on the twenty-first floor. There was a hanging television, a desk, and even a balcony. There was also a private bathroom. I was permitted to go out onto the balcony. There was a futuristic contraption involved in that though. A nurse wheeled me in my bed over by the balcony door, pressed a button by the door and it opened. Then he had to maneuver these three metal bars by the door and attach them to the underside of my bed. The he pressed some things on this screen by the door and I was lifted and brought outside. I was still on the bed and the move was very smooth. The wheels and frame collapsed beneath me like the wheels on a plane did. My companion came in and told me an appointment was made to see a final specialist the next day. I closed the door then. I watched as a grand fountain with a waterfall ran in the courtyard below me and I fell asleep to that.
When I woke up, it was the next day and I was back inside my room. Breakfast was brought to me, and I was already changed into a plain white long sleeved shirt and pants combo. I ate, rested and listened to music for a while and I was ready to move to a wheelchair. Another nurse came in and lifted me into the chair, and we headed out. We went back down to the ground floor, and left the building. I was slowly pushed by my companion and we walked past the fountain I had admired from about yesterday. We went around other shrubberies and such, and finally got to this strip of rooms. They were like little fancy bungalows. We went into one of them, the one with its door open. I was pushed in with the chair and the first thing I remember is the window behind the desk. It was the whole length of the wall, and the view was a green forest outside. Even though it was right by the door, I know we didn’t pass any trees on our way in. Regardless, there was a nice man who welcomed us in. He looked like an older Kevin Spacey. We all sat down. It was an office setting, a long desk in the middle Kevin on one side and me on the other.
He asked me how I felt and I felt fine. He went right on, talking. Then he stopped and asked for the door to be closed. That was done and he leaned over some. His assistant came out with a binder, and this he said was the last option. It was a procedure that only very few and the very rich could have done, otherwise you never knew about it. It was a series of 51 shots that would cure and prevent every illness in the world. I was to look over the papers and make my decision by tomorrow. I thanked him and was wheeled back to my room. There was something on the television, an old black and white movie I couldn’t remember the title of. That along with a gentle breeze coming in from the balcony was what I dozed off to.
After that, I woke up in my own bed, with my head on the other side of where I usually slept. I was a little disoriented at first. But after I finally physically got out of bed and slipped my feet into my beloved panda slippers, I was ready to take on my day, my life, this life.
Thanks for reading.