dreams can be strange, of course. there seems to be no correlation between how long one is asleep and how long the dreamtime lasts.
before explaining the dream, ill explain why i was sleeping just now – shortly before noon on monday morning.
this morning was kind of busy. . . i went to see dr ryu in his office/clinic area on the second floor rather than him coming to see me. i took it as a vote of his confidence in my recovery. as a head/neck oncologist, his clinic area has a lot of gadgets arrayed around dentist-type chairs. i sat in one and he examined me and said it seemed the swelling on my tongue was worse. i confessed i was probably talking too much, too soon. he laughed and said, "well that explains it. you shouldnt."
he said he still felt ready to remove the stitches in my tracheal hole (which will allow it to begin healing closed spontaneously over the next several weeks), but said a lot of non optimistic things about still possible complications with the tongue reconstruction despite current very amazing level of recovery and no evidence of necrosis of the transplanted tissue. i realize its his job to talk about all this, but its hard to listen, too.
he then said that before taking out the stitches he would remove the iv style insert at my left shoulder, bringing my total down to one conslidated iv at my right shoulder – i had four when i woke up in icu. this left shoulder one is a bit different though – instead of being hooked to my circulatory system, its hooked with a tube in my body cavity to either the neck lymphs or the general in-between of things up there – i didnt uderstand which, but i was happy to lose the attached external apparatus as it weighs a bit, and hangs permanently attached at my waist so its another obstacle to getting comfortable.
dr ryu said this wont hurt at all (i hate when doctors say that). after 25 minutes of a sensation of angry mice aggressively operating tiny vacuum cleaners in my neck in the spaces between stuff, dr ryu applied a bandage to the hole, which had leaked a vast amount of liquid with the visual aspect of clear blood plasma out down my chest and into my pajama bottoms.
that done, he moved on to the tracheal stitches, which hurt much less. and then he said "are you ok to go back on your own?" i nodded. i was a bit dizzy. so he didnt even call a nurse escort, just sent me along – that was another post op milestone, being allowed freedom of movement unsupervised – the floorwalking in the ward is as you want but its never really out of the perception of one staff or another. wandering through the airport-terminalesque second floor i had the fleeting thought that i could go outside and no one would stop me. just fleeting.
back on the ward i checked in and i did four or five orbits, getting past the dizziness. then i elevated my right arm like i should be doing, and the dressing on my shoulder began to leak. a lot. it was mostly clear but enough blood color to look alarming. i stood and got a nurses attention and we went back to my bed and she redressed the hole and cleaned things up and gave me a fresh change of pajamas.
so as i said, interesting morning. i was lying on my side on my bed, arm elevated, and i fell deeply asleep, as naturally as ever so far. i slept 30 minutes or so until a nurse came for my vitals, and i had a epic dream. not all is clear, but other parts remain vivid even a half hour later.
i was on an express bus traveling from ilsan to seoul. ive done this, though mostly the subway is more convenient, but regardless, out the bus window i wasnt seeing just seoul but also other parts of korea that i know well by bus window, like jeollanam and suwon. it was kind of random but i didnt feel any alarm or curiosity in the dream. i was bored.
the bus queued in traffic for a slow bridge crossing, and i noticed there was a bus next to ours that was a US military bus. in reality these buses look like korean private tour buses and except sometimes for a handwritten destination sign in the front window or looking at the passengers directly, you would never know. but this dream bus next to mine was american school-bus style and painted olive green, like the ones i used to ride at fort jackson. and lo and behold, staff sergeant jones was driving, looking for all the world as i remember him, a cross between prince and samuel l jackson.
he grinned over at me and i noticed the windows were open on both buses. "hey way," he called out as was his wont – "way" was my only name in the army since you dont really have a first name. "you still in korea? i been looking for you. you gotta come with me." he reached out an arm and pulled me right through both windows and found my self kneeling and coughing in the aisle floor of the army bus. "man way you look fucked up we gotta get you to the hospital."
i laughed, "i know." i settled into the seat behind jones and he told me stories about panama, where had served in the 198x invasion.
outside the window, it looked like we were headed for osan on the gyeongbu expressway. sure enough, we arrived at osan base and went through the gate. apparently they were expecting me, as i showed my korean registration card (national id). once on base, though, the scenery changed. the base went on for hours, and looked like west texas. "i dont remember osan like this," i commented. jones just nodded.
finally we pulled up at abandoned-looking cluster of low military buildings. jones helped me walk inside but ran off even as i turned to thank him. i saw a check in counter. michelle sat behind it. it was clear immediately that she didnt recognize me, yet this didnt strike me as odd in the dream. i said i needed to check in and she handed me a packet of forms. all of them were in korean. "theres no way i can do this," i said, "even if i had my dictionary." it dawned on me i didnt have my dictionary (ie phone), or anything in my bag – my bag was still on the other bus. i looked at michelle pleadingly.
she shrugged. "dont look at me. what is that, mongolian?"
[actually i didnt finish writing this but typing on my phone is quite laborious so im posting it unfinished and will work on it later.]
[update: the details i remember are now long faded but the dream continued quite a while longer. i will outline it for sake of completeness.]
i gave up on michelles help and went wandering the mostly empty hospital. i found a stooped old man in a clown suit with a utility cart of the kind janitors use. i asked if could help me. he was friendly but spoke in a rapid uncompromising korean that was useless to me. then i noticed my friend peter with a mop. i felt relief. but peter just started telling me that nobody seemed to in charge and that it was a do it yourself hospital. he pointed out that there were lots of beds and supplies. peter helped me choose a bed in a relatively clean room and next thing i noticed he was fast asleep on a bench in the hallway.
suddenly a group of soldiers approached us. they woke peter up and told him he wasnt authorized. he asked "what about him" pointing at me. they said i was fine. peter asked them who was in charge. a sergeant said, "that clown. you should know that." we both nodded. thats when the nurse woke me.