On the slim chance that I have any readers left here after six months of inactivity, I want to update those happy few on my current condition.
When last I posted here, I informed the world that I was having a physical issue known as sciatica, which is caused by a nerve in my lower back being impinged and which resulted in my right leg going haywire.
The (mostly) good news is that, all these months later, the pain has receded enough that painkillers are not required most days, I can walk a bit, and can ride my bike a dozen or so miles in a day without paying too steep a price.
The bad news is that I need to get back to work, and I need to do it soon. Unless my readership here jumps a few thousandfold in the next week or so.
But I must say, this whole experience hasn't been without its bits of entertainment. For some reason, ever since I went down with this condition back in September, I have been dreaming and remembering dreams at a furious rate unprecedented in my life. In those six months I have remembered (and jotted down notes on) roughly three dozen dreams. There was a plane crash, several encounters with zombies, and at least a couple of childhood friends who turned up.
So I thought I would share a few here. And yes, I know other people's dreams are boring, so I'll limit it to my five favorites, the ones that really made me sit up and wonder "where the hell did that come from?"
The Sciatica Dreams
5. Is My Safety Off?
Okay, I'll admit it--I've been watching way too much Walking Dead since I got laid up. Zombies have turned up to threaten me and friends/family members on several occasions. And, at least this once, a character from the TV show was included.
Zombies were coming at me. I had a handgun, which is a device I have never used in my life. My first concern was that I had not left the safety on, which many years of TV viewing has led me to understand prevents the gun from firing. I clicked a little switch on the thing, and noticed that a little red dot appeared.
I then asked Rick Grimes, character from The Walking Dead TV show, if that indeed meant that the safety was off. "The red dot means it will fire, right? That's what you told Andrea."
Apparently I was correct in this, because I then raised the gun, squeezed the trigger, and blew a zombie's head off. Success!
At this point, a former co-worker (whom I haven't spoken with in five years) congratulated me for "shooting a zombie in the face."
4. Why Can't I Walk Underwater Like Everyone Else?
In this one, myself and as many as a few hundred other people were heading out to watch some sort of display being put on over Coos Bay, in Oregon (the bay, not the town). And to get there, we needed to across a stretch of water.
For some reason, everybody but me had the ability to walk underwater, quickly, easily, and without needing to breathe. I did not possess this ability, forcing me to try to swim. This is something I'm not good at. As I flailed around in the water, my right foot began to cramp up, making things really dicey.
Yes, that's the foot/leg that has had the problems in the real world. Sometimes, my dreams try to explain real things to me. Unfortunately, my dreams know nothing of Occam's Razor.
3. Wait, I Thought The War Was Over
This dream consisted entirely of running around my old neighborhood in Coos Bay, attempting to find a place to hide from the Japanese soldiers that had invaded the west coast and wanted to kill me, what with me being a dangerous subversive intellectual and all.
I started out hiding in a hedge, but another person was living in it, and went in and out of it so many times that my covering vegetation was getting thin. I also looked at a concrete shed, but someone was already hiding inside, and it had too many openings that required only a flashlight to see into.
It ended after I ran into the neighbor's back yard, failing to find a good hiding place.
I blame the remake of Red Dawn for putting this in my head. Yeah, maybe it wasn't really responsible, but I'm doing it anyway. Ideas like that movie deserve all the criticism they get.
2. Do Not Mess With Me In Dreams, Especially When I've Just Done Something Vaguely Heroic
This dream began inside a building, one I had no familiarity with. I heard someone outside yell "emergency!" and ran out a door. The first thing I saw was a helium balloon beginning to float away. I jumped and grabbed it, only to begin floating away with it.
Then, some quick-thinking person shot the balloon, and I fell back to the ground, landing on my feet. I thanked the shooter for landing me in the grass.
The next thing I know, I'm back inside the building, and I see at the other end of the table the curly-haired guy from the show Bones. Hodgins, I believe his name is. He is pulling something out of a backpack; my first thought is he's going for a weapon, but no, he pulls out a ping pong paddle and serves the ball to me. Of course I have nothing to return that serve with.
So I turn around and look for something to play with, and a find a little tiny guitar, about six inches long. I pick up the ball and serve to Hodgins, acing the little bastard.
Hodgins then goes to his backpack again, only this time he pulls out...a chainsaw.
I say "are you serious?" and I run over and knock the chainsaw away. I pin the little jerk to the wall and suggest we have this fight straight up.
Do not mess with me in my dreams.
Then, Hodgins and someone else I can't identify are talking to me, and their voices echo strangely, like they do in movies and TV when people are going crazy. Everything takes on a purplish, underwater hue and the voices are echoing around me.
I realize, though, that it's just the two guys trying to convince me that I'm crazy by somehow altering their voices. With this realization, I wake up.
Fucker's lucky I woke up before kicking his ass again.
1. I Can't Be Dreaming, The Ground Is Solid and Everything
This one happened early on in my convalescence. I was walking down a street in Coos Bay, looking for somewhere to buy cigarettes. I'm walking along, having to problem with my leg--but the knowledge that my leg was actually messed up was with me in the dream. So it occured to me that I might, in fact, be dreaming.
I sat down on the ground and felt the grass beneath me. "Well, it feels real," I say, and I get up to continue walking.
At that point I notice that I'm carrying a big bag of nails. For no reason.
Some time later, I'm still walking but no longer carrying the nails. Instead, I'm carrying my shoes. Since this makes no sense, walking barefoot here, I stop and put my shoes on.
And for some reason, my left foot still feels bare. Even though I can see it has a shoe on it.
I assume that was the foot sticking out from under the covers. As I said, my dreams try to explain things to me.
I never did get any cigarettes.
As for my least favorite dreams during this time, there is really only one candidate: I dreamed that my favorite football team, the Kansas City Chiefs, went 2-14 this last season, never even holding a lead during the first nine games (that hasn't been done since the 1920's), and, to top it off, one of their players shot his girlfriend in front of his mother, drove to the stadium parking lot, and committed suicide.
That was my worst dream. Wait, what? That really happened?
Ladies and gentlemen, YOUR 2012 KANSAS CITY CHIEFS.
Well, it felt like a dream. And I'm sure, with a little help, that I can find a way to cope with this knowledge.
|The official 2012 Kansas City Chiefs crack pipe.|
And I must sign out again, for now. I promise, really and for true, not to wait another six months before I post again.