These Dreams…

Photo by Alex Fu on Pexels.com

Like the lyrics from that Heart song…
“These dreams in the mist
Darkness on the edge, shadows where I stand
I search for the time on a watch with no hands”

I experienced an incredibly unsettling dream last night that I just can’t shake, one of those dreams that some other protective part of your brain thankfully forces you to wake up from; a heart pounding, traumatizing, scary dream that you can’t quite figure out and you wish you could forget, but some of the details and the feelings of dread and fear remain firmly etched.

In this dream, I had driven to the airport, not to immediately travel anywhere, but for another reason, although I don’t know what that was.

I wasn’t alone–one of my first-born fur children was with me, Sabrina Sue, my beloved Border Collie. (She died when Angel Boy was still a toddler). I parked on the street, close to the airport, because I planned to walk there. I couldn’t explain why Sab was there and alive when she’s been gone for decades, but our bond was strong and it was like old times when that beautiful black and white, bright-eyed little girl was with me, as she always was.

Here’s where it gets weird. I left Sabrina in the car, which I had NEVER EVER done when she was alive, except for a couple of times when I quickly ran into the store or the post office, and only when it was cold outside, so she would be in no danger of becoming overheated.

I finished whatever business I had in the airport and walked back to where I parked my car. When I was about a block away, to my surprise, Sabrina was sitting on the sidewalk, ears up, looking at me. I crouched down low and like I always had done, stretched out my arms and said, “Come, girl!” She ran at full speed, nearly knocking me over, and we proceeded to where I parked.

But the car was gone. It had disappeared, gone, not where it should have been.

My car had been stolen, I surmised, but whoever did it must have opened the back and let Sabrina out, which wasn’t easy, as she was an extremely protective Border. I think she was the best trained of all my kids, and stay was so ingrained in her memory that she could wait forever until I gave the signal that released her to come to me.

My memory is fuzzy about how we got home, but I remember using my scarf as a leash.

As I reflect about the dream, after my heart rate subsided and I was no longer in panic mode, I had a faint recollection that I went there to purchase a ticket to Hawaii, but I’ve lost the rest of that mindthread.

When we got home, I called the police and reported my stolen vehicle.I don’t remember having a cell phone, so I had to wait for a landline.

In my dream state, I was overcome with an overwhelming feeling of shame and anxiety. I remember saying to the police, “But how will I get anywhere? I need my car.”

That’s when I woke up, saturated in self-hatred and shame for whatever I had done to set the wheels in motion to make my car available to be stolen. I must have done something wrong and that’s an intense stressful trigger for me. I always take the blame, it’s always my fault, somehow.

I think I woke up before there was any clear resolution, but I have a fleeting thought that my car WAS found and returned and that it wasn’t damaged, but I don’t recall any details about who stole it, or why.

Of course I researched dream interpretations and learned that dreaming of your car being stolen has many different meanings and scenarios. It could reflect something you feel is out of your control. You shouldn’t ignore a dream in which you lose your car because it shows your deepest fears and hopes. This dream could be the consequence of a number of unacknowledged insecurities that have surfaced in your subconscious and are causing you fear. To overcome your anxieties, you must first recognize them.

Along with my subconscious mind freaking out, here in SoCal we’re being blasted with multiple energetic events, solar flares, and strong Santa Ana weather with very low humidity. There have been multiple structure fires around here today, and a wildfire up the coast.

Did you know about space weather? That’s new to me. Check it out. It’s NOAA’s (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) Space Weather Prediction Center.

Sun activity has jumped to high over the past day, thanks to an M5.4 flare blasted out by sunspot region AR3511. The blast happened late in the day yesterday.

What damage could a solar flare do?

Heliophysicists and other scientists studying space weather warn that flares and related solar outbursts can indeed interfere with modern life by damaging power grids, as well as by increasing radiation exposures for occupants of space habitats and high-altitude aircraft.

Solar storms also affect the circadian rhythm in humans, reducing the production of melatonin and increasing levels of the stress hormone cortisol, effects that are more pronounced in patients with coronary heart disease.

During solar flares, people may feel disconnected or low while others of us may feel imbalanced or emotionally sensitive. This volatile energy can be used to connect with the higher self or achieve spiritual connectedness through meditation and yoga.

My solution? Spend the entire day in the garden.There’s always a project or two that needs attention and love. In Southern California, autumn/winter is a good time to prepare the garden to plant natives so they can benefit from the upcoming rainy season. Fingers crossed that we’ll get some decent rain this year.

At the end of the day, this dream is still sort of haunting me. As much as I loved being reunited with my sweet Sabrina, the idea of my car being stolen triggers every one of my vulnerable abandonment issues. I’ve never had a dream like that before and it’s going to take a while to recover from the intensity of the feelings it generated.

And if you read this far, the calamity that befell me wasn’t a stolen car, but just now when I returned from a walk, the garage was flooded from a very leaky and failing water heater. I don’t know how it happened so fast, but it did. I put a bucket under the drippy part, wiped up the floor, and now I need to find a plumber. Did my dream foretell impending doom? Maybe so…

Heart/wrecked

Featured

Like a ship that runs aground because of low tide or unseen rocks or fog or navigational errors, our beautiful heart can be damaged when blood flow is restricted or when it flows unregulated.

Heart/wrecked.

I grew up hearing the term, “Stress kills.”

I was never quite sure what that meant, but then I did when it happened to me.

After a seemingly nonstop barrage of a personal stressful situation–like a ship hitting the rocks over and over again–it all finally took an undeniable toll on my physical health.

One of my favorite places to live is in the state of Denial, but I’ve been forced to temporarily move to a new town called Reality. Hopefully, I’ll just visit there for a bit until I can come home again.

After experiencing some intermittent and strangely terrifying heart pains, I went to the doc who took my blood pressure and was concerned about the results. It was super high. I had always had enviably LOW blood pressure since I exercise regularly, am vegan and never smoked, so this raised concerns.

Over the course of a couple weeks, my BP was checked daily and it stayed consistently high; dangerously high, which only made me more anxious and more stressed, and at one of the office visits, I started hyperventilating and had a panic attack. (Super embarrassing for the doc and absolutely mortifying for me.)

This led to an order for an Echocardiogram along with all the other heart-focused tests. The echo was done at a local hospital–a definite trigger. No one wants to go to a hospital at any time, but especially during Covid. It seemed like I was being admitted, with a wrist band and lots of little stickers, and I was devastated.

I almost bolted out of the front door at that point, but I persevered. I can share with you that it’s a scary time when you have to figure out why you don’t feel great. I’ve been a medical advocate for several loved ones, but it’s radically more difficult when you have to care for yourself. Poor me.

The technician was amazing, especially considering I tormented her with a million questions. I know enough about medical stuff to see that she was concentrating on a certain area of my heart. I really appreciated her patience with me and her detailed explanations during the hour-long ordeal.

The results showed a dilated aortic root valve and regurgitation of the mitral valve.

Risk Adjustment Coding Academy- Coding Focus

What this means is that the accumulation of stress and panic attacks and PTSD that I’ve endured during the last four years manifested medically and physically and caused structural damage to my heart.

Mitral valve regurgitation - Symptoms and causes - Mayo Clinic

“Severe physical or emotional stress increases blood pressure to the point where the tensile limit of the aortic tissue is overwhelmed, causing the rupture.”

“Over time, certain conditions, such as high blood pressure, can cause your heart to work harder, gradually enlarging your heart’s left ventricle.”

“Mitral valve regurgitation can cause complications such as atrial fibrillation, in which the atria of the heart don’t contract well. This leads to increased risk of stroke. Also, elevated blood pressure in the lungs (pulmonary artery hypertension).”

Hypertension makes the blood push harder against the valve and causes it to dilate, enlarge, and that’s pretty much the same scenario for the mitral valve, which seems to be the cause of the intermittent chest pain.

I’ll need to be monitored regularly because if I can’t control the stress/blood pressure and the valves stretch to a dangerous size, the only solution is surgical intervention–or death.

Reducing stress and hypertension can possibly keep the valves from enlarging any further, but the damage is done–nothing will make them reduce in size back to normal, except surgery.

Let me tell you that it’s true. Stress kills.

Now I’m off to change course, take some magnesium, eat more beets, meditate, calm down and regulate my breathing so that I don’t have a stroke or an aneurysm.

Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

Heart/wrecked.

Shipwrecked.