I died, then opened my eyes and the world was new again! Patrick Everdell November 16, 1999 |
Spaghetti dreams straddle reality and the world of dreams. To help one understand exactly what they are, I have to tell how the name "Spaghetti Dreams" came to be. My mother had suffered with the growing agony of a failing knee. It advanced to the point where she could no longer comfortably or safely walk. Even standing was a painful experience. The increasing pain and distress prompted her to seek alternative to therapy (tried and did not produce desired results) drugs, (which we know is a dangerous two edged sword - usually only masking a problem) or knee replacement surgery. The final choice was the prospect of no longer being able to walk. Mom chose knee replacement surgery. Why not? Organ transplants,hip replacements and other experimental pioneering medicine had put these procedures within reach of most of us. Futhermore the insurance company would pay for the procedure since these operations are no longer considered experimental. So it was decided and mom was scheduled to received her new "Bionic " knee. |
Spaghetti? Why spaghetti and not something like, The Death xperience, or The Continueing Consciousness..... Spaghetti dreams is a family expression created when...... |
This surgery, due to its very nature and length, pre-requisites that patients are put to sleep and given a combination of drugs. Among them is morphine and curarie administered by drip through a shunt directly into the blood stream. Morphine is an opiat use for pain and to induce sleep, Curarie to prevent any movements. It prevents unwanted and sudden movements. You don't want to kick your surgeon as they are making a delicate incision! Curarie was used by South American Indians to paralyze and kill enemies, monkeys, and other prey. These drugs used together can and do create hallucinations and illusions in lucid color. Reality and dreams can blend together indistinguishably. This is a little known but documented effect, bolstered by tales related from the people who have had treatments using these drugs together. My mother was no different. After a successful surgery mom began to regain conciousness. Looking around the recovery room, she groggily could make out many of the features there. The door, clock on the wall, The wall itself, and of course the ceiling. While laying on your back, regaining cognisance, the ceiling is the most prominent feature. She studied the ceiling,( most likely stared at it.) and noticed the symmatry of the ceiling tiles, the evenness of the lines cutting the ceiling into precise grids. As she studied closer, there was a sudden dancing and swirling motions that began within each of the tiles. The tiles themselves were filled with thousands of tiny holes, holes that were now quivering, moving, dancing in intricate patterns. |
The tile and little holes grew light and dark, swirling in petite circles and dancing in unison. The little holes began growing. Each tiny hole began to streach and reach out to the other holes. They twisted, turned circles, gyrated in an effort to free themselves from the ceiling tiles holding them prisoner. Mom then noticed that the holes had begun to grow, stretch out, almost imperceptable at first, but they had extended from the ceiling. Very slowly at first, the holes began to inch downward, stretching to the floor. Each individual hole then took on a life of its own. They stetched downward in growing thin strands of spaghetti. Faster now, the spaghetti holes reached the floor at the foot of her bed. The strands continued to flow out of the tile holes and began piling up on the floor in twisted mass of swiling spaghetti. The spaghetti continued flowing to the floor, growing thicker, more dense, undulating as it grew to the size of a small tree trunk. The tree trunk alive with twisting animated strands of spaghetti which continued to grow, the mass from the ceiling continueing its downward flow. My mother was terrified. This couldn't be happening! This isn't sensible. Spaghetti is dripping from the ceiling, clumping together in tree trunks and seemingly taking on a life of its own? The strands from the ceiling now cut their ties and fell with a clump to the floor. Slowly the spaghetti rose up and moved around the room, seemingly investigating this non-spaghetti world. The spaghetti mass stood tall and moved directly toward her. Mom's vision fuzzed in and out of focus on the mass that was now towering above and leaning over her. POP! Pop pop pop pop! Now the spaghetti began popping like corn. POP! The column was changing with the sounds. Pop pop pop! An arm stretched out from the side. Pop pop pop poppop! Hands, and fingers shot out from a large swirl of spaghetti on the arm. More pops, Legs "Popped" out from the trunk,Pop, now a head. Pop! Pop! Pop- Pop- Pop! Admidst a hail of crackling corn, the spaghetti had transformed into a doctor who was now leaning over her. "And how are you feeling now,Mrs. Everdell? Still groggy, the hazy dream still vivid she asked, "What happens to all of the spaghetti you folks use?" |
The Term, "Spaghetti dreams" was born. It passed from the hazey world of dreams into reality. In our family, and now many of the practicing caregivers have been using the term. It means a vivid dream, but a dream that can be separated from reality for what it is, a spaghetti dream. So it seems that it is most appropriate to use "Spaghetti Dreams" as the name and title of my adventure. Where do dreams and reality meet. What is the point where they blend and become indistinguishable? Secondly, it also seems "just" to use this title to honour my parent who preceded me in death and returned. Finally the words themselves catch your attention and causes the imagination to become active. Thanks for the great title mom! |