I had a strange dream the other night. It was the kind where it follows me with odd da ja vue feelings for days. It begs to be taken apart, and analyzed. Some dreams are really just wisps of all that we accumulate during the day being let out in our subconscious at night while we sleep like an air release valve. They don't mean much at all. Then there are the kind that are a little more serious than that. When you recall bits, and pieces of these dreams there's emotion attached. It's not just the run of the mill dump dream. These types of dreams have a message to decipher, and usually a solution to a hidden issue you might have been avoiding.
In this particular dream I had found out from a doctor that I had cancer. I eventually ended up speaking to a doctor, and a team of scientists about my options for treatment. The doctor told me that I had three options. I could:
1. Choose to try to manage it with diet, and exercise, and hope it heals itself. The doctor said that this was not a recommended choice, because the cancer was very toxic, and would likely attach itself to other organs infecting other parts of my body with sickness.
2. I could choose to replace that part of my body with healthy skin. The new skin would heal the cancer, and the chances of full recovery were very optimal. The only drawback was that the skin had to come from my face. A fairly large portion of my face. The procedure was only offered in another country, so I would have to go there to get it. She explained to me that this was the best option with little chance for error.
3. I could choose chemotherapy, but the doctor noted that this option would be overkill. She didn't recommend it, because the chemo kills the healthy cells with the bad ones. I would endure pain, and sickness as well as possible permanent damage that would be irreversible.
I decided to go with the chemo. I said that would be the best option for me. It was the only one I could afford. The doctor again reminded me of her recommendations. She asked me why I could not do number two, since that was the best choice medically. I asked if the skin would scar, and she said it might. I broke down in tears explaining to her that I had a scaring disorder that makes my scars turn into bubbles, and look much worse than most people's scars. I also could never afford to go to another country. How could I choose number two when it would leave marks on my face that everyone will see?" I sobbed.
