What I learned from dying: Impossible Dreams

Dave Taylor

By Dave Taylor

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I had a string of good dreams that were so good I wrote a column about them. Well now things have changed and it seems like every dream is bad.

Every night now it seems that I’m given some impossible task where I spend all night trying to complete it and then I wake up tired.

A couple of nights ago I was making websites for a blogger and I had to figure out how to get a physical sweater to load online. Never mind that’s not how the internet works; that never crossed my mind. I just know that I worked all night and every time I made a page the blogger wrote a new post and I had to make another new page. I woke up exhausted.

Back when I was having good dreams I postulated that my psyche was trying to take care of me. Even a recurring dream where I went up for a dunk and slipped at the last second and missed the shot changed where I was finally able to throw down the dunk.

So if back then my psyche was trying to protect me, what the heck is it doing now? Trying to give me a hard time?

A couple of nights ago I spent the night trying to take care of a large yard and playground, including putting down treatment for ticks, but I reached into the bag for the treatment and there was just a small handful for the whole yard. I was beat the next morning.

Just now as I was writing this I fell asleep and dreamed that I was back at photo school and I was asking how long we had till class started because I’d left part of my assignment at home and everyone would just give me a joking response but never the answer. I finally left to grab my assignment but then realized I had a 2.5 hour drive each way.

All of this dreaming leaves me feeling exhausted at the end of the night, but my daydream life is still pretty good.

I can still find a way back to my grandmother’s house for her chicken and dumplings, to McDonald’s for cheeseburgers or to my kitchen for homemade pizza. I can also find myself driving this old Porsche 911 I want, even though it’s a hot day and it has no a/c. I can also still disappear to a ball game where I can still play, and where I hit long, effortless home runs.

Regardless of whether I’m daydream driving or working all night in a slog of a dream, I realize I’m blessed to even still be here to do either one, since doctors didn’t think I’d be around this long. And it’s an immense blessing to share my story here each week with all of you readers. I thank you for all the encouragement you give me both in messages and in person. God bless each of you.
dave.hancockclarion@gmail.com