Percocet Dreams


Maybe the pain meds aren’t responsible for the dreams. Maybe the surgery experience brings out the odder corners of the mind. Possibly the meds and surgery experience collude.

In one dream, everything was red. Fire engine red. The walls, the sky, the ground, every single thing red. The same red of the light switches in my hospital room. In another dream, my purse was replaced with a bright yellow bag and every single thing in the bag was brilliant yellow. I didn’t have my wallet, money, or medicine, but I had this bag of plastic yellow things. The yellow of the “fall risk” bracelet around my wrist.

In every dream, the walls are huge. The walls always go up into the sky. Whether I’m outside or inside a building, the building is massive, almost beyond comprehension. And they move. Floors tilt or sink. Walls lean in.

Few of the dreams have other people in them, although one had sales people behind counters. I would say, “My purse has been stolen. I’m lost and have no money. Would you call the police?” And the salesperson would nod and say, “Wouldn’t you like to buy something?”

There were also mini-dreams. I doze off for a few seconds, and someone walks into the room and talks to me. When I open my eyes, no one is actually there. One of the people to show up was the tall man from Agent Dale Cooper’s dreams (visions?) in Twin Peaks.

twin peaks giant

If you’ve ever had pain med induced dreams, what were they like?

9 thoughts on “Percocet Dreams

  1. The TP giant! Love the giant! (Favorite moment: scene in the roadhouse, the lights go out, a single spotlight shining on the giant — who is saying, in a quiet voice which is somehow also making the hair stand up on the back of my neck, It is happening again…!)

    I vote for meds + surgery in collusion. It’s the artificiality of putting things into and taking things out of our bodies which throws our minds out of whack.

    Wish I had some good pain-med dreams to report but apparently I always seize on the excuse to just go to dreamless sleep. The closest thing to it may have been the fever delirium I was in as a kid with measles or mumps; my mother reported that I seemed to be very alarmed about something I referred to as “the big navy.” “The big what, John?” “The big navy! Navy!” It was so bizarre that I’ve never been able to figure out why it might have scared me.

    (Btw, you know the experience of seeing your first FB post Friday — was it even Thursday night?!? — made me grin. But seeing a blog post from you today practically made me want to stand up and burst into delighted applause.)

    1. The big navy…I guess it could be scary if it were after you.

      Those first few FB posts I think were by my husband. Especially any on Thursday. I was completely out of it Thursday, crying and, apparently, hallucinating. It’s a good thing I’ve taken any recreational drugs. I’d probably have gone right out of my head.

      I was surprised to see the Twin Peaks giant in my hospital room. I hadn’t thought Twin Peaks was in any way on my mind. I just wish I knew what if anything he had to say.

  2. Can’t say as I have, but I’ve had plenty of fever-dreams. It can be so distorting even to wakefulness. I hope they’re not too unpleasant (they don’t sound pleasant, anyway), but they’re a testament to the creative acuity of that mind of yours. Wishing you wellness and pleasant dreams in the near future, Marta! (Maybe just sharing a cup of joe and a slice of pie with Agent Cooper…?)

    1. Yes! If only Agent Cooper would show up in my dreams. I’ve mixed feelings about the dreams. I’ve always had vivid dreams, but these are on a different level of vivid. I sort of have a love/hate relationship with them. But thanks for the good wishes!

  3. Brianna Soloski

    Although I dream very vividly, any sort of induced dream doesn’t tend to stick around. I do know those dreams are much blurrier and less memorable than my average dreams. You might try journaling your dreams – not to analyze them, but just to see if there’s any sort of pattern or recurring theme.

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