Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 31, 2017. Thursday.



When I was a toddler, and as a consequence of a long journey being required to get to a hospital (from an isolated cypress swamp), I nearly died (well, I did have an NDE) from loss of blood and almost lost my left hand as the result of an accident of falling from the top of a stool (I loved to climb) across a large piece of a glass mug. However, miraculously, I fully recovered contrary to predictions made by the doctor. Somehow, my brain was wired differently and I did not even go into shock. (I also grew new neural pathways and trained myself to use my hand again, without any help, by the age of four which some had claimed is why my clarity of mind is as it is and why I always remember so many dreams from each sleeping period). Years later, people noted how my scar looked somewhat like a reversed map of Florida, the state I was born in (Zsuzsanna has a similar story, but that is one of many). It is shown partly in the image as such in a photographic flip (though it actually goes around the other side of my wrist from there). When Zsuzsanna and I met, there was also a healing process. (For example, the large hard lump in my left wrist, made up of random bone and tendon, somehow vanished after being that way since I was a toddler. Zsuzsanna’s leaking cartilage in her right knee, another lifelong condition, also no longer existed as such.)

At any rate, in this new dream, I have some sort of smaller medical tape covering my scar in at least two pieces that are perpendicular to each other. I am somewhat puzzled, as I remember my wound but I do not fully recall its status. I seem to be near the age I am now. The tape seems to be coming off, and I am concerned that the wound flaps are not fully integrated into my arm, as parts of my arm seem to open like a purse (as had occurred in another recent dream, though in that case, it was my entire arm).

After a time, I hear music coming out of the holes of my wound, which sounds like odd flute music but vibrating somewhat. The texture of my arm seems somewhat unusual, and it is also as if I am blowing into my scar at one point and playing it to create flute music.

As I am dreaming this, I am awakened by Zsuzsanna - who validated that I had been snoring for awhile. This of course (and I actually did have my mouth near my wrist as such though not as fully as in my dream), along with numerous other experiences, proves to me that the belief about “not being able to dream and snore at the same time” is utter nonsense (as are most beliefs about dreams that are widely published). It may be true for some people, but certainly not for all. (In fact, most ideas about dreams are limited to perhaps only certain individuals assuming any truth at all, for example, people talk about “not remembering dreams”, yet I do all the time, each sleeping period, including hundreds of lucid hypnagogic sequences and with non-lucid dreams, my mind typically automatically decodes their meaning unless prescient.) There have been a number of dreams where my snoring provided a “soundtrack” for my dream, including childhood dreams (including one about a dinosaur, triggered by hearing my own snoring through the veil of sleep) and one as an adult about being pursued by a bear (the sound of the bear being my own snoring).

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