D-Dreams: Rafts & Rations

Being that it's Friday the 13th, I thought I'd share a strange diabetes-themed dream that recently entered my sleeping mind. While the particulars may be a little odd or eyebrow-raising, but the themes represent larger points and feelings about the Diabetes Online Community and how we're all in this together. It seems as though some other DOCers (like MsMegan777 and Jacquie over at Typical Type 1) have also been having strange D-Dreams, signs of a larger trend that we're all interconnected both in our real life advocacy but also in the dreamworld.

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First, I was on a river. A rocky river. The sky was dark and cloudy, clearly a storm was moving in and the air smelled as such. Probably somewhere on the East Coast, as there were lobsters clawing at me and trying to snip the pump tubing that hung from my waist. My method of traveling along this waterway appeared to be a raft - no, actually it was a small yellow intertube. How this was safe when the lobsters were clawing, I don't know. But that's how it was. The lobsters didn't appear to be targeting anyone else, though.

Everyone else had seemed to be employing their own floating mechanisms, though I don't clearly recall what the rest of my dream participants were using to manuever through the rocky waters. Some were actual sea-worthy vessels, while others were more inflatable poolside-style. K2 and Crystal was there. Cherise and her daughter were on one of those round amusement park water ride cups. Then we had Manny, George, and Scott who were all up near front on a white water raft, complete with lifevests and helmets and elbow pads while steering the convoy with plastic oars (actually, the oars were spoons).

Kerri was there, too, though clearly BSparl had yet to be born. She needed some help staying on the nearly transparent (purple?) raft, so Suzi volunteered to help her stay on board as we traveled down the river.

Our convoy appeared to be connected by a long pink rope (in the absence of our universal D-Color?), that somehow tied onto our various water carriers and steered us all to the same place. A huge cooler appeared to be fastened to the Pink Rope, though I don't recall it ever being opened in order to see if the contents were in fact beer or insulin. No iPads or laptops or smart phones, from what my memory tells me.

All I know is that we ventured down this river toward whatever unknown destination we were bound for, and when one person almost went overboard, someone jumped in and pulled them out. Once, a hand reached in and grabbed me and lifted me back onto my intertube-raft. Saved by the DOC, it seems!

Suddenly, we weren't on the river anymore. Instead, Suzi and I were being herded into what resembled an old airplane hanger that was now converted into some sort of disaster shelter lined with beds. Not cots, but real queen sized beds with covers and comfy pillows. I don't know why we'd ended up there, but in looking around I did see some of those same familiar DOC faces who'd been on the river. An older lady wearing a military uniform appeared and said something in German, and it then dawned on me that we could be in some form of weird Nazi-run camp. Soldiers appeared and they yanked everyone's insulin pumps away from them, some to shrieks of pain.

 

But I didn't have one, as had been the case earlier on the river. Instead, I had several bags of syringes and managed to hide those in my clothes, along with some bottles of Humalog. A few others had done the same, and so as the weird dream sequence played out in this bed-lined prison shelter, we all had to ration the needles and insulin in order to survive. So, what could have been several people exchanging bottles of insulin instead manifested itself into the old tins used during war-time...

Yet, interestingly, there were no blood tests happening in this weird world. Just Ration Tin Insulin SWAGing, I guess.

This carried on for what seemed like forever, but in the dream world who knows how long it really might have been. At some point, my attention focused to the fact that something was licking my face. My eyes opened, and there was Riley. With her front paws up on the side of the bed, giving me a good morning kiss. And that is where the crazy dream ends...

So, that's one of the D-Dreams from my end. What do I take out of them, aside from the knowledge that the DOC is on my mind in real life and in the dream state? I guess the point is: If I'm ever going to be stuck on a river convoy and imprisoned in a place where pump and insulin isn't allowed, I hope it's with the DOC. And that there's a loving dog at the end to greet me.

Here's to a Not So Twilight Zoney 13th, and a Happy Weekend!