You can take this kind of dream literally, as in, I need to make an eye appointment and it is on my mind; or symbolically, as in, I am having trouble seeing some things in my life clearly, or, regarding the part about not being as well as I thought, anxiety about the approaching anniversary of my fourth bone marrow transplant, or my re-birthday.
I haven't had checkup anxiety for a long time, but my next appointment is on my mind because I have to keep moving it. First it was because of bad weather and now it is because next Wednesday I'm scheduled to sub in the Valley Opportunity Council's adult education program, which I have done the past two days.
On to another topic, I have made a mistake about my birthday.
That is, my re-birthday, the anniversary of my fourth transplant.
I have been saying that it was Jan. 31, 2009. But on some paperwork that just came, it says Jan. 30th!
A day does not a big difference make, but still, it's important to know.
A birthday can be a time to pause and reflect. A transplant birthday is loaded.
Although I think I'm doing pretty well, on some level I'm concerned that a doctor will examine me and find something. Beneath the surface lurks the fear that since the same truck hit me four times, it can hit me again. Hence the nightmare.
You never know what will happen. We learned in the news biz not to say, "Such and such will happen on such and such a date." When you got a press release exclaiming, "The fourth annual most wonderful event in the world is happening over the weekend," you rewrote that "the fourth annual such and such is PLANNED." (And removed the hyperbole.)
So I'm hesitant to say that in a week I will be nine years old. Rather, in week I expect to be nine years old.
Though past the magic five-year cure marker, it's probably safe to join members of the general public who say that they will be a certain age and not that they expect to be that age.
So here goes...drumroll...on Jan. 30, I will be nine years old.
Spits three times.
Toi toi toi!
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