by Bec Fary

Waking up in someone else’s house, there’s that slight moment of panic when you realise you’re in an unfamiliar environment. As you acclimatise, often waking up next to friends, a common thread of conversation is dream-exchange.

Bleary-eyed late on Sunday morning, here’s one of the dreams I was privy to:

I don’t normally remember my dreams but this one was so vivid: I got a call from the hospital: “You have to come in and do some tests.” So I went in, and as soon as I arrived back home I got another call and was told I had to come back straight away. They said I just needed more tests. Back in the hospital, I was wearing a gown and sitting in a wheelchair. Someone started drawing lines on my head. I started freaking out that I had a brain tumour or something. Then a maintenance guy put a piece of wood up to my head and started drilling into it. Then I noticed a nurse was sitting underneath me, beside the wheelchair. She had a wrench around my wrist and looked like she was trying to loosen my arm. I made an excuse to leave and went to hide in the bathroom. My mum arrived and started screaming and finding out what was going on. Turns out when I’d broken my wrist it hadn’t set properly so they decided to break it again to reset it in a cast. Their way of doing that was to distract me with the loud noises of drilling into the wood on my head, and while that was happening they’d break my arm without me noticing. That was when I lost my shit, I was so mad at them. 

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