That's just how it goes. I make a promise to update more, then get knocked out of the game when I least expect it.
As far as I can tell, I caught a cold when I was out at the midnight showing of Watchmen. It lingered for a few days, but got worse on that following Tuesday. By Thursday, I was stuck in bed and coughing so much, I could barely eat or drink.
I tried everything from Vicks VapoRub to a generic version of Mucinex. Neither worked, but the latter was a really bad idea. Apparently, one of the ingredients in the medicine can cause nightmares and hallucinations. And it did.
I'm not one who normally has nightmares and these were intense (murders, losing limbs, being ripped apart), so I was pretty freaked out. Then, it would continue into my waking hours. A pile of socks in my room looked like a demon form to me, so much so that I had to ask Mom to move them. It was...interesting.
So, on that Saturday, Mom put her foot down and took me to my doctor, who declared I had pneumonia and promptly sent me to the hospital. During the ride to the hospital, I had the back of my wheelchair reclined so I was laying down and just trying to breathe steadily. I'll be honest, it was a scary ride.
I was more at ease once we arrived and I got a bed and got an IV and oxygen. Everyone there was great, but my two-night stay felt like a week. Between struggling with the uncomfortable beds, nurse check-ins, and continuing to see weird things (thanks to being dehydrated), I didn't get much sleep at all during my stay.
Since I was finally able to eat and drink, they let me go home on Monday to continue my recovery. I've been working on bouncing back ever since. Physically, I'm feeling pretty much back to normal, but I'm still all out of whack. My normally nocturnal schedule has shifted to me waking up between 9 and 11 AM and exhausted by midnight. I miss my nighttime ways.
I'm also lacking my usual attention span, lately an hour long TV show is pushing it. I miss movies.
I'm getting there though. Slowly, but surely.
In a complete change of pace, Mom and I are taking off on a little road trip tomorrow. Chantal's playing at Brock University in St Catharines again, so we're gonna spend a couple nights in Niagara Falls and catch the concert. I can't wait. It'd be nicer if we weren't in the middle of an April snowstorm though.
I'll try to post a trip recap and pictures when I get back on Thursday. Maybe Friday.
Oh, and Watchmen was just okay in my opinion. Ah well.
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Monday, April 06, 2009
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Sinus Dreams
I've been fighting off some kind of sinus bug for the last few days, it finally got a hold of me last night. Needless to say, I hate being sick, but there's one rare aspect that does amuse me. I've found that when I'm sick, I have a tendency to have some pretty weird dreams. I woke up today feeling sick, but chuckling, as I had one of those dreams last night.
I was in a hotel somewhere with palm trees, possibly California. I was in a meeting there with two business type folks. One was a guy around thirty, he had blond hair and looked like he spent too much time in the sun. The other was a blond middle-aged woman who was trying her hardest to look twenty.
The meeting was all about them trying to get me on board to direct a documentary for them, though I don't recall the subject matter. I sat in disbelief as they insisted the documentary be fully scripted. I argued that it defeated the purpose of a documentary to script the whole thing, but my arguments were met with creepy fake smiles and further attempts to make me see their point of view.
I continued to decline and things eventually got heated. I kicked them out and said "Do you know what you call a scripted documentary? 'The Office.' When you decide to do it right, give me a call."
As I escorted them to the door, the dream's setting changed from a meeting room in the hotel to my hotel room. While closing the door behind them, I saw Tom Selleck in the hallway, walking past the elevator. I turned to Mom, who was packing our things, and calmly said "I think Tom Selleck just walked by", as if it was a completely normal thing to see.
Next thing I knew, I was waiting for Mom in the hotel lobby while she was getting the van. The lobby was enormous and looked more like an airport than a hotel. There was a group of about a half dozen girls in their late teens to early twenties sitting in a row of seats near me.
In the distance, a guy walks by and I hear a hushed commotion among the girls as they notice him. He looks vaguely familiar, with hair like Hurley from Lost, but less wild. I recognize he's an actor in movies and I overhear the girls call him Jason something. His last name had two syllables, the first syllable having a hard "A" sound.
A few minutes after walking by, he returns, this time just a few feet away. He looks around and starts calling out my name. Unsure of what's going on, I quietly say "that's me." To my surprise, he extends both hands, a newspaper in one, a pen in the other, and asks for my autograph.
Laughing to myself and unsure what to think, I bluntly ask "Are you bullshitting me?" He then tells me he's seen all my plays and is a big fan. Still caught a bit off guard, I assume he means the cartoons and I sign his paper.
I was in a hotel somewhere with palm trees, possibly California. I was in a meeting there with two business type folks. One was a guy around thirty, he had blond hair and looked like he spent too much time in the sun. The other was a blond middle-aged woman who was trying her hardest to look twenty.
The meeting was all about them trying to get me on board to direct a documentary for them, though I don't recall the subject matter. I sat in disbelief as they insisted the documentary be fully scripted. I argued that it defeated the purpose of a documentary to script the whole thing, but my arguments were met with creepy fake smiles and further attempts to make me see their point of view.
I continued to decline and things eventually got heated. I kicked them out and said "Do you know what you call a scripted documentary? 'The Office.' When you decide to do it right, give me a call."
As I escorted them to the door, the dream's setting changed from a meeting room in the hotel to my hotel room. While closing the door behind them, I saw Tom Selleck in the hallway, walking past the elevator. I turned to Mom, who was packing our things, and calmly said "I think Tom Selleck just walked by", as if it was a completely normal thing to see.
Next thing I knew, I was waiting for Mom in the hotel lobby while she was getting the van. The lobby was enormous and looked more like an airport than a hotel. There was a group of about a half dozen girls in their late teens to early twenties sitting in a row of seats near me.
In the distance, a guy walks by and I hear a hushed commotion among the girls as they notice him. He looks vaguely familiar, with hair like Hurley from Lost, but less wild. I recognize he's an actor in movies and I overhear the girls call him Jason something. His last name had two syllables, the first syllable having a hard "A" sound.
A few minutes after walking by, he returns, this time just a few feet away. He looks around and starts calling out my name. Unsure of what's going on, I quietly say "that's me." To my surprise, he extends both hands, a newspaper in one, a pen in the other, and asks for my autograph.
Laughing to myself and unsure what to think, I bluntly ask "Are you bullshitting me?" He then tells me he's seen all my plays and is a big fan. Still caught a bit off guard, I assume he means the cartoons and I sign his paper.
"My first autograph,
thanks for this!
Jacob Drake"
thanks for this!
Jacob Drake"
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