Lung Disease, Lucid Dream, and a Cult

I drank an extra half can of an energy drink (120 mg of caffeine) prior to going to bed as well as a slice of pizza.

Lung Disease

I remember being in a hospital room setting and a doctor/nurse that was a tall, healthy, black woman was concerned about me. It’s like she knew I had something fatal or something (in the dream only) and was trying to prove herself wrong because she didn’t want me to die.

In one scene, she asked me to lay on the ground. I told her that would be uncomfortable, so she allowed me to sit. She put her stethoscope to the left side of my right knee and listened. I thought maybe it was a blood clot or something – I mean what can be found listening to my knee?

I later found on the computer that they thought I had some kind of lung problem. I thought that was weird. I couldn’t Wikipedia it because I heard the farther of two doors open. A small man walked in the room – like, 3 feet tall – wearing a suit. I wanted to talk to him, but I felt I had to keep our conversation secret.

I closed the doors, speaking loudly, trying to pretend I was yelling over to the phone. I spoke loudly about closing the doors so people don’t get annoyed with me talking on the phone. In the hallway, there was a doctor-like guy and he just stared at me. He’s the first observer I’ve had in a dream in a LONG time. He was Asian and wearing a suit.

I looked at him as I closed the door and he kinda creeped me out. The short man left and left the door open. I rushed to take the phone off the hook and put the phone to my ear as the Observer came in. I don’t remember him walking in, I just picture him gliding in. It was really strange and creepy and he kept staring at me. I pretended to end a conversation with my mom and hung up thinking I didn’t sell that well.

Lucid Dream

So the short man didn’t make me think I was dreaming, and neither did an earlier scene when I pointed out a meatball that was plugged into an electrical outlet. But after the Observer scene, I remember walking out of the room and in the doorway, questioned if I was dreaming.

I thought, if I was dreaming, I could put my hand through the doorway wall. I was able to put my finger through it. I got excited and put my hand through the wall.

I walked down the hospital hallway and entered a room. There were four other “patients” there. One looked like he could have been the Observer’s son and I remember at least one other male and a female. I think they were in their 20s.

I told them that it was a lucid dream. There was a sign on the wall to my left and I read it aloud relatively easily and said, “See?? You CAN read in a dream!” Of course now, awake, I can’t remember what the sign said. I think it was a map that showed to exits in case of an emergency.

The group looked at me weird, so I said, “We’re dreaming!! Look, I’ll prove it!” I went to a wall and tried to force my hand into it. It was slow at first and I told them it was because they didn’t accept they were dreaming, yet. Quicker and quicker, I was able to get my fingers into the wall. I grabbed it and ripped it away like Play-Doh. The wall and the piece in my hand had impressions from my fingers, but the piece in my hand became as hard as a wall again. I tossed it to one of the people in the group.

I told them that I needed them to do me a favor: To contact me when they wake up. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen nearby. The paper had notes written on it, so I started writing in the white space that was left.

I told them I’d write my phone number in large numbers so they can visually remember it. I started with parentheses for the area code and told them 7-4-0. I drew a 7, but the downward line curved like a lowercase G and I was worried they’d think it was a 9. So I went back and forth to make it look more like a 7. I wrote 4 and 0 with little problem. Halfway through the rest of the number, I stopped because I realized what I said didn’t match what I was writing. I was writing the correct number, but I said a number with 0-0-0. I said, “Wait, that’s not right.”

I looked up and the group was gone, but some guy that looked like the main guy from Nickelback was walking around nearby looking lost. (Probably a reference to the Pop2K playing three Nickelback songs in a row in waking life.) I thought it was him and thought, “Darn it! A celebrity? He ain’t going to contact me.” I got his attention and explained how we were dreaming and asked him to validate this as a shared dream by contacting me when he woke up. I explained that writing my number hasn’t worked. He pulled out a calculator and said he’d type in my phone number. I said that would be great because it would be something he could remember visually. However, awake, I realized it would have been hard for him to type on a keypad in a dream.

Cult

I never got the number to him, but I remember ending up outside of the hospital. While I was in there, I heard about some cult and there were numbers involved. Later, I kept seeing the numbers and symbols. I thought, “Wow, this cult has a lot of members or they chose a naturally-occurring sequence of numbers (like the Fibonacci sequence).” The sequence started with 1-4-1-5 then a higher number, double lower number, then a higher number again.

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