So the Columbus Day weekend recently tick-tocked passed us, again. Most of us barely noticed, others observed; some of us celebrated, others berated. But for me, it marked the second full calendrical cycle since my 2008 Columbus Day Trip—a dreadfully memorable weekend in October in which I remember myself waking up tripping in the hospital. I‘ve only told about three or four people in my life about this traumatizing happening, simply because it’s a story of unimaginably embarrassing proportions. It’s taken about two years to wrap my elastic mind around it, and I can finally say that enough time has passed that I can finally look back at this ridiculous happening and laugh at it. 'Haha'… So let me tell you about this horrific, Halloweeny, Columbus Day Trip.
This is All a Dream
As a group of nurses rolled my cot down the sickly-sanitized, white-tunnel-shaped hospital corridor, I laughingly acclaimed that we were all in a dream. I noticed one of the younger nurses was intrigued by my wild-eyed, nonsensical, poetically-loaded assertions.
“What’s your name?” the grumpy older nurse asked me.
“I don’t have a name.”
“Yeah, right… You have to have a name. Where did you come from?” the grumpy nurse sarcastically asked.
I pointed upwards… “From up there,” I replied with a wild smile. She became frustrated and sternly asked one of the EMT’s for my ID.
“HAHAHA, I told you, I don’t have one! I’m telling you! I’m lucid dreaming right NOW.
“Sir, we need to know your name and date of birth.” (For insurance purposes, of course.)
“I WAS JUST BORN… RIGHT *NOW*!”
This is All a Dream
As a group of nurses rolled my cot down the sickly-sanitized, white-tunnel-shaped hospital corridor, I laughingly acclaimed that we were all in a dream. I noticed one of the younger nurses was intrigued by my wild-eyed, nonsensical, poetically-loaded assertions.
“What’s your name?” the grumpy older nurse asked me.
“I don’t have a name.”
“Yeah, right… You have to have a name. Where did you come from?” the grumpy nurse sarcastically asked.
I pointed upwards… “From up there,” I replied with a wild smile. She became frustrated and sternly asked one of the EMT’s for my ID.
“HAHAHA, I told you, I don’t have one! I’m telling you! I’m lucid dreaming right NOW.
“Sir, we need to know your name and date of birth.” (For insurance purposes, of course.)
“I WAS JUST BORN… RIGHT *NOW*!”
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