The Dog is Dead

DRAPED DOG DREAMING

I am in a dream. It is almost a nightmare. I have written about my bad dreams recently in the blog post Bad Dream Girl. http://liamlicks.blogspot.com/search/label/nightmare%20nights

Are the dreams better?  Yes, a little bit. I win sometimes and other times I forget the dreams. l  fight better and longer and don't give up. This one has me back in senior year in high school.  I think maybe because of our upcoming 45th reunion on June 22. In this dream yearbook pictures are being taken and I am told I am not dressed properly. I do not have the requisite pearls and draping. Yes, you read correctly.  Hmmm. I am arguing about the unfairness of my exclusion in front of a panel. They are listening. My usual nightmare elements of isolation, being left out, being treated unfairly and not having the proper tools all present. I hear a voice "the dog is dead" what? Who said that? The yearbook photographer? My thoughts spin away from pearls and drapes. Jumbled thoughts of dogs and drapes Again, I hear "the dog is dead." I struggle out of the unfinished dream into a confused consciousness. Two realizations meet in a crazy coalescence-I am not in the yearbook and I am being told  "the dog is dead. "The" dog.

IS THIS "THE" DOG?

This sounds personal. Our dog? Paul is standing in the doorway of the woman cave. What! Liam!!! Dead? Why, how? I feel a cold dread and a visual of Liam's stiff body somewhere in the house. No. 'That's not what I said.  Not dead....fed,"  Paul repeats "the dog is dead" which I now know to be "the dog is fed." I am not wearing my hearing aids; I take them out for my  klonopin nightmare world.

Hard to process. We usually leave a sign for each other so we will not feed Liam twice. We leave out the bag of greenies to show one of us has fed him. If we don't Liam will just go to the other parent for more.

WHICH ONE? UPSTAIRS OR DOWNSTAIRS?

I do not understand why I have been wakened for this news. For some reason Paul thought it important that I be told personally. I tell Paul that I thought he said the dog is dead and that is why I jumped and screamed about Liam. The dog is not dead, he is fed.

I have recently finished reading a book about hearing loss. Shouting Won't Help written by former New York Times reporter Katherine Bouton  part memoir, scientific reporting and little bios and interviews with famous people with hearing loss... see link for more   http://nyti.ms/YEr9UF
The book's last two lines strike home.
A conversation between Katherine and her husband
"When are we eating?" My husband says.
"Chicken," I answer.
 
Part of my yearly ENT visit includes a hearing test. I was there yesterday. On my way in, the technician looks down and says " I like your purple." or was it "I like your pocketbook."  I am wearing purple UGGS and my bag is hanging right near where she is looking. I usually receive compliments on my handbag, but am ready to glow in UGG praise also. I thank her. Maybe soon the answer will be revealed. It is. As we walk she continues. "I have 8 pairs." Okay has to be UGGS as pocketbooks/handbags do not come in pairs.

My test shows no further hearing loss. Holding pattern. Mine is described as an interesting loss. I like that. I do not want to have an uninteresting hearing loss.  My ENT doctor meets up with me for the closeout and says  "You are perfect in discriminatory hearing. You did not miss a word, only sounds." Really? Those were easy words they asked me to repeat..cow, sit, bell, sing.... My doctor says a word. could be Variation, No irrigation. wants me to irrigate my nose. My nose has its own issues. Too dry.

I CAN HEAR AND UNDERSTAND "SIT"

I am glad that

Liam is fine.

My hearing loss is interesting.

I am perfect in hearing small simple words

I do not need new hearings aids.

Irrigate.

Back to the nightmares and fixing those.

I AM FED, NOT DEAD

Woof, woof