I had a really morbid and on reflection disturbing dream last night...
...and now I can't sleep for thinking of the details. So I decided to jump on hell-jay and spread the misery in case it would help.
So in my dream, I was a dead man. Specifically, a recently deceased forensic pathologist who found himself in the in-between life/death and what comes next. He/I had spent his/my life of cutting up dead bodies and had been so good at it that when he died, the authorities in this strange place invited him/me to join them. See, in this place, some people went straight to what came next, but others were slowly dismembered by the ...staff of the place. I don't know why. I seem to recall something about studying them, but I don't remember any observation going on. Just...performance.
In my dream, I remember a vast warehouse of people in various states of dissection. Some had the skin removed to expose muscles, some were down to bone. Some were shuffling around on whole, or partial, or sometimes only single legs. Others were lying in bunks which (although I might be just making this up with my attempt to recall the details) were like the bunks you see in pictures from concentration camps in the Holocaust; simple tiers of wood without bedding. More storage shelves than beds.
My first job was removing the foot of another newcomer. He was complaining about pain, and so I reminded him that since he was dead, he wouldn't feel any. And he didn't. He muttered, but didn't say there was any pain as I dissected away skin and muscle and nerves to finally end up with gleaming white bone. In fact, since we were all dead, none of us felt pain. Or noticed any smell which must have been coming from our dead/dismembered bodies. But I seem to remember a vague moaning filling the room of bodies.
Another job I had was hiding the mortal remains of one of the really senior people there. I emptied out the bottle of some greenish liquid which he gave me and found a skeleton of a foetus, barely larger than my fist. I was in a hurry, because someone wanted this to control this boss-person, so I ran out to the place we stored the bones, which was huge. It wasn't a room, but you couldn't describe it as a field or a catacomb. The bones were just piled in enormous drifts like sanddunes. I ran over them with some difficulty, prying the remaining flesh of the tiny bones with my fingers and scattering them so they wouldn't be found. I think I crushed some of them too. I don't remember what I did with the skull.
Someone had brought a living serial killer to our death-place in a plot to gain power...or influence...or something, and he was sucking up bodies and souls. We knew that it was just a matter of time until he tried to penetrate the gateway guarded with rainbow/oil-slick light (which was the only colour that I recall in the dream other than the red of muscle) which could only be passed by the brightest darkest light? (I'm not sure of that bit, it made sense in the dream) and when he did, he'd either be destroyed or continue on. In which case we could get back to business as usual.
Opposite the door of light, there was a corridor floored with the same light. I knew somehow that once you stepped onto that path you couldn't get back, you'd be lost in a maze? off on a quest? on to what came next? (or was that a different door on the other side of our complex?) I wasn't sure if I was too afraid to start on it, or longing to.
So...that was basically the dream. One of the things that's concerning me is that it might be a hidden fear regarding medicine. That it's just a charnel house where we who are simply dying slower than those we treat move from one to the next, barely even postponing the inevitable. We can't even save children, sometimes. In the end, we can't 'save' anyone.
...damn, that was depressing. I'm not depressed, I promise! It's just that this dream led my thoughts into a rather darkish place. I'm gonna go think about pretty dresses now and hope I can sleep better.
So in my dream, I was a dead man. Specifically, a recently deceased forensic pathologist who found himself in the in-between life/death and what comes next. He/I had spent his/my life of cutting up dead bodies and had been so good at it that when he died, the authorities in this strange place invited him/me to join them. See, in this place, some people went straight to what came next, but others were slowly dismembered by the ...staff of the place. I don't know why. I seem to recall something about studying them, but I don't remember any observation going on. Just...performance.
In my dream, I remember a vast warehouse of people in various states of dissection. Some had the skin removed to expose muscles, some were down to bone. Some were shuffling around on whole, or partial, or sometimes only single legs. Others were lying in bunks which (although I might be just making this up with my attempt to recall the details) were like the bunks you see in pictures from concentration camps in the Holocaust; simple tiers of wood without bedding. More storage shelves than beds.
My first job was removing the foot of another newcomer. He was complaining about pain, and so I reminded him that since he was dead, he wouldn't feel any. And he didn't. He muttered, but didn't say there was any pain as I dissected away skin and muscle and nerves to finally end up with gleaming white bone. In fact, since we were all dead, none of us felt pain. Or noticed any smell which must have been coming from our dead/dismembered bodies. But I seem to remember a vague moaning filling the room of bodies.
Another job I had was hiding the mortal remains of one of the really senior people there. I emptied out the bottle of some greenish liquid which he gave me and found a skeleton of a foetus, barely larger than my fist. I was in a hurry, because someone wanted this to control this boss-person, so I ran out to the place we stored the bones, which was huge. It wasn't a room, but you couldn't describe it as a field or a catacomb. The bones were just piled in enormous drifts like sanddunes. I ran over them with some difficulty, prying the remaining flesh of the tiny bones with my fingers and scattering them so they wouldn't be found. I think I crushed some of them too. I don't remember what I did with the skull.
Someone had brought a living serial killer to our death-place in a plot to gain power...or influence...or something, and he was sucking up bodies and souls. We knew that it was just a matter of time until he tried to penetrate the gateway guarded with rainbow/oil-slick light (which was the only colour that I recall in the dream other than the red of muscle) which could only be passed by the brightest darkest light? (I'm not sure of that bit, it made sense in the dream) and when he did, he'd either be destroyed or continue on. In which case we could get back to business as usual.
Opposite the door of light, there was a corridor floored with the same light. I knew somehow that once you stepped onto that path you couldn't get back, you'd be lost in a maze? off on a quest? on to what came next? (or was that a different door on the other side of our complex?) I wasn't sure if I was too afraid to start on it, or longing to.
So...that was basically the dream. One of the things that's concerning me is that it might be a hidden fear regarding medicine. That it's just a charnel house where we who are simply dying slower than those we treat move from one to the next, barely even postponing the inevitable. We can't even save children, sometimes. In the end, we can't 'save' anyone.
...damn, that was depressing. I'm not depressed, I promise! It's just that this dream led my thoughts into a rather darkish place. I'm gonna go think about pretty dresses now and hope I can sleep better.