revitalized head

          I was at a summer camp of some sort. Someplace I’d been before a long time ago, which had been in disuse for some time. There was a bed that served as a gurney, and was used to treat trauma patients. I started cleaning it up. There was a great knot of blue strapping bunched up over the bed, attached to an instrument and as I reached for it to unknot it, I said to whoever was with me that the last patient must have been a really critical one. As I tugged the sheets and stuff off, I saw that there was a head still there. I said that the EMTs must have been in such a hurry that they forgot the head. I was dismayed to find it, but knew I’d have to take care of it. I was glad I hadn’t been one of the EMTs, who had had to deal with a decapitation.

          I pulled the sheets back further, and saw a torso of a man. I looked back at the head, and saw that one of the eyes was cracked open. I grabbed a pen light and shined it into his eyes, saying loudly – in the way EMTs do – directly to the patient “sir! Sir! Can you hear me?!” His eyes opened more, and I asked “What’s your name?! Do you know what day it is?!” I leaped into EMT mode and told my partner that he was alert and oriented times 2 as the patient answered my questions groggily.

          As time wore on, my patient got up and appeared to be pretty much okay. Somehow there was another patient then; a woman. The man had a fold-up bike and I deduced that he had been riding and had an accident, and that it had been last year, that he had been here all winter.  He prepared the bike to ride. I asked Linda, who had appeared from nowhere, if the ambulance crew had a jump kit in the barn since I’d have to take their vitals. She said something non-committal. The crew had closed up the shop, locked everything up to keep their tools safe. They had never imagined that someone might need them when they weren’t there.

          The man was now standing up on top of a table, and the woman was sitting on the bed. I fiddled around, finding my blood pressure cuff. The man said to just let us go, since he felt fine. He was wearing black clothes, with a black cloth wrapped around his head. I signaled for him to lean over to me, and I whispered to him that I had to know the woman’s blood pressure because if it was very high, and then she tried to exercise, she could blow a gasket, and that he needed to go along with it.

 

Could the man be my animus? A part of my psyche which was injured and disassociated from me a long time ago, which is now revitalized.