Queen’s Medical Centre, where I had the misfortune of spending two weeks in October 2004, is the largest hospital in Nottingham. It has 6 floors I think and each floor looked identical to me when coming out of the lifts. The corridor goes round in a massive square and only the outer rooms have windows. There is very little contrast between floors, walls and doors and very harsh lighting.
You’re probably wondering why I’m describing this in my journal, but ever since leaving the hospital, it has become the stuff of nightmares for me. I’m always lost in these corridors usually with some pressing errand that has a deadline and needs to be done. It is a very panicky dream and I often wake up from it sweating and sometimes even crying.
Last night the dream was a little different in that I had a mobile phone with me. I tried to call for a taxi but the driver refused to come in and look for me. He said that I’d got myself into this mess so it was up to me to get out of it. He’d see me outside. So I then tried the ward that I had been on and they said I had no place there and they couldn’t be responsible for me.
Very weird. I wish I knew a bit about the meaning of dreams. All I can say is that this one only rears its ugly head if I’m feeling insecure.
Sorry guys, another self-orientated entry. I’ll try and do better next week!