The Dream

I have nowhere to share this really but I need to write it down and get it out.

Last night I dreamt that we were at the hospital picking up my Dad after all of this crap, like months and months from now, and he was up and walking around and totally normal. I was hugging him and so grateful to have him back in my life.

The doctors wanted to call one last meeting, so we all sat around a big table together in sort of a conference room.

Thinking we were about to hear "Congratulations, he's finally outta here!", we sat happily together, so relieved this ordeal was finally over.

I looked at his doctors face and noticed he was not smiling. I looked around the table and noticed that all of the medical team's faces were grave.

After that, all I heard was "two weeks to live."

I stood up, over them, and said "What?? He's done! He's ok! He's coming home!!!!!!!!"

"I'm sorry."

I stood there with a scream stuck in my throat, looked at my Dad, who looked so sad for me (because that's how he is). Looked down and my skin was turning white. I felt it welling up inside me, the scream of anger, but it was so slow, I couldn't seem to make it surface; just stuck in my gut, trapped.

Finally I looked the doctor in the face and screamed "I HATE YOU! I HATE THIS HOSPITAL!" with the most fire I could muster.

I collapsed, and sobbed and sobbed.

Woke myself up, and I was sitting straight up in bed, still screaming and still sobbing.

After I had this dream, I found out that my Dad has more spinal fluid building up in his brain, even with the shunt. I didn't think I had devastation still in me, but I do. And now the dream makes sense. I don't think he's going to die, but the feeling of everything is ok then BAM worst news you could think of...this pattern that has been happening for almost 2 months now. Hope, then relief, then devastation, then anger. I see now how I keep thinking if I take the hope or relief out of the equation, it might stop this pattern. But it doesn't. Nothing does.

I have a doctor's appointment this Tuesday morning. Because get this. I am having vertigo and dizzy spells. I'm 99.9% sure it's stress or anemia or something. But WTF, how could I not go and get it checked out?! I thought to myself, what are the chances of two people in the family having a brain tumor? But then, this family seems to beat the odds, in the not good way, most of the time. As my close friend said, we should go to Vegas.

It's probably even psychosomatic, but the only likely way to shut that off now is to hear from a doctor that I am nuts and a hypochondriac. And then watch-- boom, no more dizzy spells.

Will keep updated.