Monday, December 20, 2010

Dream: The PT Waiting Room

I'm at our next door neighbor's house. It's starting to snow. They left the back door open, and snow is coming in through the screen window. It occurs to me that it would be a good idea if we were to visit each other in the winter every day in order to save on heating costs.

I'm bicycling to my wife's physical therapy (PT) appointment. I'm late. I'm going north on OF road. I reach Main street and stop at the red light. I was supposed to turn left earlier, so I'll have to make a U-turn around the center divider. The light turns green and I go. I realize the road may be slick, so I purposely try to see if I can skid or spin the back wheel. I do manage just a bit.

Now I'm riding east on Main looking for OF road, but I can't seem to find it. As if from out of town, I notice how run down some parts are. I see litter and graffiti, and some buildings are boarded up. I attempt to turn off the road at a spot that's muddy, guessing that it's the right road, but I change my mind and get back on Main street.

I eventually reach a hotel at the end of the road. It's painted turquoise. I ride behind it to turn around. As I go back out I come to a flimsy gate. A few girls have just walked through it, and now it's swinging shut toward me. I manage to bump into it strong enough to push it open and go through. The girls apologize. Somehow, I finally make it to PT.

I'm sitting with my wife in the waiting room. I have my work bag with me, so to while away the time I sort through the bag to organize it. I come across my jock strap, which I will need to wear at karate later today. It closely resembles my CPAP mask. There is a pre-teen girl also in the waiting room. She gets embarrassed at seeing the jock strap. Nevertheless, I put it on over my clothes.

I now notice that we can see the room in which the therapy is given. I see a man on a floor that's covered with blue mats. He's propped on his side on his right elbow facing us, receiving therapy from a man close by. His head is much smaller compared to his shoulders. He almost looks like Tom Brady, with that dark, short hair. I recognize him as a patient from the Naturopathic Doctor's office. I mention to my wife that I see him go to Dr. Williams' office. Another patient that's also waiting hears me and comments loudly, "Dr. Williams? What do you see him for?" The rude man has a black eye. I don't answer. I just stare at him. He continues to talk to us.

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