I have held on to this story to myself for awhile now, besides telling my family, but I think it's about time I should get it off my chest.
While I was hospitalized, Ryan ended up getting sick, had strep, was treated quickly and recovered quickly. I think at some point I must have overheard that he was sick or in the clinic or whatever. Well I had some ongoing nightmares about him and me being sick. One sticks out the worst and it affected me for awhile because I didn't know what was what or where I was for much of my time there.
In my dream I was in this hospital, a very creepy-insane-like hospital, there was flashing lights going all over the place and my room was mainly dark with water dripping from the ceilings. My so-called doctor or nurse, whatever he was, was getting me ready to take me to the elevator to go down, way down. He was taking me to my death. I was too sick and they had tried everything and it was only a matter of time until I would die. (This was basically real case in my situation.) Apparently this nurse was in a hurry to send me to my death. I was in my hospital bed and I was tied down with restraints (also true for a period of time) and was unable to talk very well. I did my best to talk, trying to tell him that I wasn't ready to die and to keep me off the elevator.
I am getting nowhere and he starts to wheel me away. As I'm getting closer I notice some people in the neighboring room. It's Ryan. I can't tell who he is with but he is crying. The scared cry, the cry that you know he just wants to be hugged as much as I want to hug him. He isn't feeling well and I'm not sure why. I then notice my nurses' hands, in particular his finger nails, all ugly and torn and uncut so long that they are basically pointy. He seems me looking at my scared son, looks over to him too and then back at me and gives me the creepiest smirk I've ever seen. My heart drops, then boils. This creepy freak is my kids nurse too!? No freaking way, what the hell has he been doing to him, why is my boy still so sick?!
Now I'm fighting ten times harder trying to break free, trying to talk, trying anything to get someones attention. I don't care about my elevator ride, I just want my kid!
I can't move. Nothing is working. I'm in the elevator and the door closes. I start going down, I throw up, but I'm too weak to move and the vomit stays in my mouth, tastes terrible.
Dream is over.
Wish I could forget this dream in my head.
More to come.