My Quacker Nightmare
July 14th 2009 21:00
Photo by Maren Winter. Used in accordance with the terms of Wikimedia Commons’ GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 or any later version published by the Free Software Foundation; with no Invariant Sections, no Front-Cover Texts, and no Back-Cover Texts.
When my beloved pet ducks were alive, I had a nightmare about them. It was terrible. I dreamt they had died and I didn’t know what to do with them so I put their bodies in the rubbish bin. Brown-o and White-o felt so stiff and cold. Both were lying on their backs. It was weird to see them not moving. At that point I awoke to find myself back in my bed and my quackers still alive but asleep in the garage downstairs.
Years later, I had a similar dream except it was about finding a dead body outside my parents’ house. Again, I was trying to find a way to put the body in the rubbish bin. Except in this dream, the sight of a corpse was enough to make me revolted to the point of vomiting. Just as I was about to regurgitate I woke up. My heart was racing, I felt panicky and I told myself this was why I could never consider a career in medicine, even though my doctor thought that I was less squeamish than most people and would make a good doctor.
As time goes on, the more I doubt this. A case in point is RPA. I watch it religiously but the older I get, the more I cringe at the gory operations. My doctor says when he studied medicine the students were slowly accustomed to seeing gore so by the time they had to cut up a dead body, it was no big deal. So according to his logic, I should be less freaked out by RPA, not more. One of life’s mysteries, I guess.
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