I dreamt I went to France and forgot to bring enough prednisone.
I had two but then accidentally dropped them in the dirt. I had no idea how to find a pharmacist who might be able to contact my doctor to get some more.
In reality I was in Wellfleet with enough pills to last a week: 210 of them. I did this because I had just filled all my day-of-the-week pill boxes and had thrown them in a bag to take on my long weekend. Sometimes when I am too lazy to fill all the boxes, I have to rummage through the bag and take out each bottle one at a time. In that case when I go to Newton overnight, I take the whole thing.
Diane laughs because for years I kept them in the same paper bag that I got them in upon my hospital discharge. The bag was falling apart, but I kept it out of superstition: If I had survived that long by using the same bag, I better not discard it for fear of something bad happening. I finally took a deep breath only recently and got a new bag.
It is important to bring enough pills because one time I didn't bring extras and I got very sick in Newton. Diane had to go to the local pharmacy and get prescriptions faxed from my doctor's office. It seems like an easy enough thing to do, but it was really a hassle, so for a long time she asked, "Did you bring enough pills?"
I had a beautiful day in Wellfleet yesterday, only to have a nightmare about my teeth last night. I had an appointment with a dentist at a hospital and was racing to find the right room. When I got there I found people lined up on stretchers being tortured by a dentist along the lines of the former Nazi played by Laurence Olivier in "Marathon Man."
As he approached me when it was my turn, I ran out of the room crying, dashing through corridors looking for an escape.
I have too many pills and too few teeth.
But I am alive and it's a beautiful day. My nephew Sam has just come back from one of our favorite bakeries, The Flying Fish, and he has brought me a blueberry muffin. Soon we're going to go for a ride on Sam and David's boat.