It sounds like you work in an alzeimers ward or with elderly patients. My wife worked for a few years with these patients and it is quite amazing the amount of stress it can generate. I wont list all of her experiences but there was a women who went crazy and suffocated herself by getting tanlged in her bed rail. Old men who would suddenly bust out into fistacuffs because they brushed against each other in the hall and a rather sweet old girl who always wanted to know if the song on the radio was Patsy Cline. Well, after not too long my wife became depressed and for about three months she fell into the work/eat/sleep routine. We were on opposite shifts and I basically never saw her. Eventually we moved and she now has a job she loves but nursing and CNAing can be unbelievably stressful on the whole family one way or another.
So the dream, on the assumption that you are working with senile elderly folks,...
The child running downstairs: perhaps you recognize that they are like children and yet this does not rule out danger. In fact maybe there is an atmosphere there that you have not acknowledged but it is an ugly spirit of people in decay, of questions that can never really be answered, of past lives no longer kept secret by social decorum and of secret griefs that can no longer be hidden. It is true also that many of these people were great human beings during their lives. And then we watch as some become foul mouthed nasty little creatures that few want to spend much time with. The loved ones of alzeimers patients often face this grief for years and years as they see the people that mean the most to them slowly slip away.
I would not dismiss the dream, but ask myself honestly if I was afraid and just what impact the job was really having on me. Try to focus on the bright spots. As I said the little old ladies like our Patsy Cline fan ultimately gave my wife hope. Even though they were not all there, there was still a spring in the step or a twinkle in the eye. Another women I recall always talked with my wife about her son. The converstation was always the same. "Hi what's your name? Are you from Pemberville? I'm from Pemberville. Say do you know Robert Bruning? That's my son."
Hope that helps, best regards
EJ
|
|
Bookmarks