A odd dream
My odd dream and visit to a private wacky hospital.
Last night (Monday 6 August) I had a really odd dream, which might have something to do with something I heard on Shortland Street: “why doesn’t he go to a private hospital..”
So I was walking into this really old but flash building. Inside where these marball stairs that lined the sides of the room and wound up towards the top. You could look up and see the top of the building, as rooms were more like decks that were randomly placed high above. The floor was of a cheuqed pattern and there was a plant right smack bang in the middle of the room. I went with Dad up the right-hand stair case – trying not to topple over as the stairs were not wide. The stairway looped around the upper ‘decks’, and we finally got the the top. The staircase swung around and twisted upwards until it reached it’s destination. This was not a fun house – it was a hospital. And in the red velvet and golden bed lay my Aunty Violet, but she had passed.
The dream started again. After going into the building and climbing the steps, we (I am still traveling with Dad) were almost at the top floor. On the 2nd highest deck, there was a elderly woman in a chair, with wires leading from her into a small machine. Her eyes were closed – and she was breathing. The machine sounded a soft loud beep, and the ziz-zagged green continuess line slowly became a straight line. Dad leaned over and said “she is about to pass”. Then came the saddest thing I’ve ever seen (and I know it’s a dream, but still). Her eyes bolted open, she thust forward opening her mouth to call for help. But life in this dream was different – once a medical machine displayed a line, your life was over. The poor woman could do nothing as she instantly became inactive.
We climbed to the top story – and there was Aunty Violet, laughing and happy. She mentioned the fact that she loved this private hospital – and that she was really enjoying every moment. Looking away at something else then back again, she turned into Justine Jones from Shortland Street and we discussed the separation of twins. Huh. That’s dreams for ya..
I thought I would write this so I wouldn’t forget it. And before you go critizing, it is not ment to be a ‘Specialty Post’ like The Valley or JULY 31, 2006. It’s just a dream recount.