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Authors: Julianne MacLean
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reports have shown significant
improvement lately and I no longer have to wear the mask.
Oddly, it was when I began to feel better
and was able to resume a more normal lifestyle that the flying
dreams began.
* * *
Sometimes I fly like a bird, low over water,
but most of the time I soar over cities at night. I’m not sure why
it’s always nighttime in my dreams. Perhaps I enjoy all the lights
in the tall buildings and on the freeways below. The red taillights
on a long stretch of road are especially mesmerizing. So is the
starlight when I look up, though the stars are not always visible.
Sometimes I fly just under a blanket of clouds—or maybe it’s smog;
I’m never sure.
Have you ever dreamed you were flying? If
so, were you speeding along like a bullet through tunnels, or
coasting over fields and mountains like a bird?
Chapter Twenty-three
Ellen woke me at sunrise the next morning.
Wishing it wasn’t time to get up yet, I rolled over to watch her in
her crib. We shared a room together in my sister’s house in Beacon
Hill. Diana, my identical twin, was a successful divorce lawyer and
she occupied the room at the end of the hall, though sometimes she
slept over at her fiancé’s house.
Incidentally, that was something good that
came from my illness, because that’s how Diana met Jacob. He was
the cardiac surgeon in charge of my case. Coincidentally, he lived
in our neighborhood as well, so he was always nearby, handy in an
emergency.
There had been more than a few of those over
the past year.
A knock sounded at my door and I leaned up
on an elbow. “Come in.”
“Want me to take her?” Diana asked, peeking
her head into my room. “I’m up anyway.”
“It’s Saturday,” I replied. “You should be
sleeping in.”
“So should you.” She padded across my room
in her bathrobe and slippers. Approaching the crib, she began to
speak in a melodic voice. “Good morning, little angel.” She reached
into the crib and gathered Ellen into her arms. “Are you hungry?
How about we change your diaper first?”
I lay my head back down on the pillow and
watched my sister carry my baby girl to the change table. Diana was
cooing and smiling and I couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that
despite my suffering over the past year, and the hardships that
still lay ahead, there was so much to be grateful for.
“I had the dream again,” I mentioned to
Diana as I rolled onto my back.
She removed Ellen’s diaper and reached for a
fresh unscented baby wipe. “That’s the second time this week.”
“Fourth time this month,” I added, “but last
night’s dream was different.”
Diana glanced at me with interest. “In what
way?” She lifted Ellen’s behind off the table to slide the clean
diaper into place, then fastened all the Velcro tabs.
“I recognized where I was,” I said, “and I’m
a little freaked out about it.”
“Why?” she asked as she picked Ellen up
again.
“Because I was flying away from the
transplant center,” I replied. “It was all very clear and familiar.
I flew over Cambridge Street, the grassy Common and Chinatown. It
was the first time I recognized any place in one of these dreams.
Before that, I just thought I was flying over imaginary
locations—random fields and rivers, towns I had never been to.”
“What do you think it means?” Diana asked,
bobbing at the knees to entertain Ellen.
Feeling restless, I sat up, tossed the
covers aside and swung my feet to the floor. “I feel foolish saying
it.”
“Don’t feel foolish.” She moved to stand
before me. “Tell me.”
Curling my fingers around the edge of the
mattress, I looked up at my sister with bewilderment. “Do you think
it’s possible that these dreams are somehow connected to my donor?
Do you think he’s flying in here to check on me or something?” Then
I shook my head. “It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Maybe I need a brain
transplant.”
Diana sat down beside me and I reached to
take Ellen
improvement lately and I no longer have to wear the mask.
Oddly, it was when I began to feel better
and was able to resume a more normal lifestyle that the flying
dreams began.
* * *
Sometimes I fly like a bird, low over water,
but most of the time I soar over cities at night. I’m not sure why
it’s always nighttime in my dreams. Perhaps I enjoy all the lights
in the tall buildings and on the freeways below. The red taillights
on a long stretch of road are especially mesmerizing. So is the
starlight when I look up, though the stars are not always visible.
Sometimes I fly just under a blanket of clouds—or maybe it’s smog;
I’m never sure.
Have you ever dreamed you were flying? If
so, were you speeding along like a bullet through tunnels, or
coasting over fields and mountains like a bird?
Chapter Twenty-three
Ellen woke me at sunrise the next morning.
Wishing it wasn’t time to get up yet, I rolled over to watch her in
her crib. We shared a room together in my sister’s house in Beacon
Hill. Diana, my identical twin, was a successful divorce lawyer and
she occupied the room at the end of the hall, though sometimes she
slept over at her fiancé’s house.
Incidentally, that was something good that
came from my illness, because that’s how Diana met Jacob. He was
the cardiac surgeon in charge of my case. Coincidentally, he lived
in our neighborhood as well, so he was always nearby, handy in an
emergency.
There had been more than a few of those over
the past year.
A knock sounded at my door and I leaned up
on an elbow. “Come in.”
“Want me to take her?” Diana asked, peeking
her head into my room. “I’m up anyway.”
“It’s Saturday,” I replied. “You should be
sleeping in.”
“So should you.” She padded across my room
in her bathrobe and slippers. Approaching the crib, she began to
speak in a melodic voice. “Good morning, little angel.” She reached
into the crib and gathered Ellen into her arms. “Are you hungry?
How about we change your diaper first?”
I lay my head back down on the pillow and
watched my sister carry my baby girl to the change table. Diana was
cooing and smiling and I couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that
despite my suffering over the past year, and the hardships that
still lay ahead, there was so much to be grateful for.
“I had the dream again,” I mentioned to
Diana as I rolled onto my back.
She removed Ellen’s diaper and reached for a
fresh unscented baby wipe. “That’s the second time this week.”
“Fourth time this month,” I added, “but last
night’s dream was different.”
Diana glanced at me with interest. “In what
way?” She lifted Ellen’s behind off the table to slide the clean
diaper into place, then fastened all the Velcro tabs.
“I recognized where I was,” I said, “and I’m
a little freaked out about it.”
“Why?” she asked as she picked Ellen up
again.
“Because I was flying away from the
transplant center,” I replied. “It was all very clear and familiar.
I flew over Cambridge Street, the grassy Common and Chinatown. It
was the first time I recognized any place in one of these dreams.
Before that, I just thought I was flying over imaginary
locations—random fields and rivers, towns I had never been to.”
“What do you think it means?” Diana asked,
bobbing at the knees to entertain Ellen.
Feeling restless, I sat up, tossed the
covers aside and swung my feet to the floor. “I feel foolish saying
it.”
“Don’t feel foolish.” She moved to stand
before me. “Tell me.”
Curling my fingers around the edge of the
mattress, I looked up at my sister with bewilderment. “Do you think
it’s possible that these dreams are somehow connected to my donor?
Do you think he’s flying in here to check on me or something?” Then
I shook my head. “It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Maybe I need a brain
transplant.”
Diana sat down beside me and I reached to
take Ellen
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