Any budding Freudian types here on the BBS? [That goes without question, you know that. 
- someone]
Sorry, Freudian slip there. I meant to ask: any people into interpreting dreams and stuff? If so, you might be able to help me then.
I had two very strange dreams last night. The first concerned me, in my house, at night, surfing the Internet like I do on my sofa, when I come across this YTMND-type website that plays an annoying and profanity-filled noise, and which (it says) is guaranteed to send dogs into hypnosis. Thinking about that for a second, I call my dog, my gorgeous black Labrador (why she's in my house I have no idea) into the room, and play the sound again. Immediately she rolls onto the floor around in a circle, legs kicking in the air, almost as if she's having a fit. I then lean over her and say "You are a chicken" and immediately the dog jumps onto the sofa and stands legs akimbo as if she's about to lay an egg, although it looks instead as if she's about to pass stool. I then tell her to STOP and she leaps off the sofa as if nothing happened. Dream over.
The second dream was shorter. I dreamed I was at work. I then receive a cardiac arrest call to the children's hospital, but it's in a very convoluted area forcing me to run outside (in blazing sunlight) and back indoors along some very old-looking stairs and corridors, changing direction several times as I end up following other members of the cardiac arrest team who do know the way to the patient. I eventually reach the patient, who is not a child but in fact a very sickly-looking thin young(ish) woman in a very fancy stairwell, with an open tracheostomy (surgical passage from the skin of the neck directly into the windpipe) in front of her neck, but no tracheostomy tube (onto which oxygen and ventilators can be attached) in place. She is in fact OK and alert and well, but producing a LOT of thick green phlegm from her tracheostomy site. I find myself standing on her right side (her left side is against an intricate wooden wall) armed with a suction catheter, sucking at the tracheostomy to clear her windpipe of all the green muck, only to find that the attachment has now fallen inside her, down her windpipe and into her lungs - yet she is still perfectly fine, still with green phlegm bubbling and oozing out, but not as much as before. I end up having to use my gloved fingers to feel inside her neck and windpipe, and retrieve the suction catheter (not a flexible one, but one of those stiff metallic ones used to clear the mouth of saliva and blood) from her neck. She's fine. Dream over.
Is there a meaning to all of this? Does it herald seven years of prosperity or famine or something? Am I mad? Was it the oven-baked garlic bread I ate last night that triggered it?
- someone]Sorry, Freudian slip there.
I meant to ask: any people into interpreting dreams and stuff? If so, you might be able to help me then.I had two very strange dreams last night. The first concerned me, in my house, at night, surfing the Internet like I do on my sofa, when I come across this YTMND-type website that plays an annoying and profanity-filled noise, and which (it says) is guaranteed to send dogs into hypnosis. Thinking about that for a second, I call my dog, my gorgeous black Labrador (why she's in my house I have no idea) into the room, and play the sound again. Immediately she rolls onto the floor around in a circle, legs kicking in the air, almost as if she's having a fit. I then lean over her and say "You are a chicken" and immediately the dog jumps onto the sofa and stands legs akimbo as if she's about to lay an egg, although it looks instead as if she's about to pass stool. I then tell her to STOP and she leaps off the sofa as if nothing happened. Dream over.
The second dream was shorter. I dreamed I was at work. I then receive a cardiac arrest call to the children's hospital, but it's in a very convoluted area forcing me to run outside (in blazing sunlight) and back indoors along some very old-looking stairs and corridors, changing direction several times as I end up following other members of the cardiac arrest team who do know the way to the patient. I eventually reach the patient, who is not a child but in fact a very sickly-looking thin young(ish) woman in a very fancy stairwell, with an open tracheostomy (surgical passage from the skin of the neck directly into the windpipe) in front of her neck, but no tracheostomy tube (onto which oxygen and ventilators can be attached) in place. She is in fact OK and alert and well, but producing a LOT of thick green phlegm from her tracheostomy site. I find myself standing on her right side (her left side is against an intricate wooden wall) armed with a suction catheter, sucking at the tracheostomy to clear her windpipe of all the green muck, only to find that the attachment has now fallen inside her, down her windpipe and into her lungs - yet she is still perfectly fine, still with green phlegm bubbling and oozing out, but not as much as before. I end up having to use my gloved fingers to feel inside her neck and windpipe, and retrieve the suction catheter (not a flexible one, but one of those stiff metallic ones used to clear the mouth of saliva and blood) from her neck. She's fine. Dream over.
Is there a meaning to all of this? Does it herald seven years of prosperity or famine or something? Am I mad? Was it the oven-baked garlic bread I ate last night that triggered it?
[Yes - everyone]
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