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Drawing, February 15, 2007The day after the operation, I dreamed,
I was on a peninsula called the Moulin Rouge. It was war time. I was hiding in a burned out room. The Germans were getting very near to where I was hiding; they were also about to discover my comrades. If I tried to warn my fellow soldiers, I would surely be killed; if I didn’t do something, my friends would be killed.
I stood up and shouted at the Germans, expecting to die immediately. To my surprise, they kept on going, almost as if I wasn’t there.
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This dream felt like a depiction of the battle in my heart, the moulin rouge, the "red windmill." The landscape had been devasted, but it was not my time to die. It was a relief for me to finally let go, to stop fighting, to surrender my self for the sake of something larger.
One of the problems with the placement of stents in the body is that the body treats them as a foreign invasion and creates scar tissue around them; if enough scar tissue builds up, then the artery becomes blocked. I hoped that this dream was a message that the body would not fight the invasion, to let it be.
As soon as I was able to walk around San Francisco, I went with my ten year old son to see the new movie the " X-Men," about mutant humans with special powers. I sure didn't feel as if I had any unusual powers, but I did feel like some kind of mutant bionic creature with this stainless steel implant in my heart.
