Heartbroken

Yesterday was daylight saving time, and I was tired today. I fell asleep this afternoon and slept long enough to go into REM sleep, and you know what that means. I dreamed.

I dreamed that I visited my doctor, and he was very concerned that my heart wasn’t working right, and that my feet were so cold. He said my heart couldn’t decide what to do: to pump the blood to my head or my feet. I asked if there was anything he could do. He did not look hopeful, but said there may be one thing. He then called to his nurse and asked, “How long has (name of a drug) been on the market. She yelled back, “Three months.” He said he had to prepare it, and that I should return in three hours. I left, went shopping, went home and told my son, who was visiting. By then, I realized that over three hours had passed. I asked my son to take me to the doctor’s office. We got in the car and started the short trip. I was distraught, afraid that we wouldn’t get there before his office closed. My son didn’t seem concerned. I woke.

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