Last night I was in bed dozing off needing to use the restroom. As often happens, I dreamed that I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, but I woke up and noticed I was dreaming. I thought now I’ll really get up, so I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom to pee. As I was walking back to the bedroom, the floor started started shaking, first slightly and then violently. An earthquake in Montreal! I positioned myself under a doorway. I looked outside the window and everything was shaking, trees, houses, and inside the apartment books were falling out of their place. Houses started collapsing and alarms blared everywhere.
I worried about my grandmother, she’d be terrified! And tomorrow nobody will be there to feed her at her residence! I should go over as soon as possible!
I woke up shaking, and noticed it was a dream again. My procrastination led me to this nightmare of sorts. I made sure I got out of bed for real and completed my task.
This morning I felt a dream replica in the form of a concern that my grandmother was not eating enough. The day before I had spoken to the nurse to see if I could be considered an informal caregiver, this would allow me more privileges at her residence, because during lockdown I’m not allowed into her personal quarters, and the staff was resenting me for my daily visits into the lobby, because they had to dress her up and bring her out in order to take her out for a smoke.
“Not possible, you are not a caregiver, you are a visitor”, the head nurse told me dryly. “Just wait four days more, the government rules will relax and you will be able to come inside”. I conceded, but now I felt different. I resolved to speak with her again. I went to the residence and called her up and asked to speak with her.
“I’m concerned about my grandmother”, I said, “she hasn’t visited the dining room since the cremation of my grandfather, and I’m afraid she might not be eating well enough. I would like to supervise that she is eating properly”.
“You mean that you want someone inside with her, making sure that she eats?”, she said, annoyed and amused at the same time. “No no, I just want to come and have lunch with her, making sure she eats her lunch”.
—“You can’t have lunch with her, you can’t take your mask off”,
—“Oh, but I wont have lunch, I just want to make sure she eats her lunch”
—“Oh that… Ok, that would be fine”.
—“Oh, great! Would it be OK afterwards we come downstairs to have a smoke too?”.
—“Yes… I suppose”.
—“Then I’d bring her upstairs and I’d leave”.
—“Yes, that’s fine”.
—“Is it OK if I do this every day?”
—“Yes it is”.
She then told me she had done some wound dressing for her in the morning, and my grandmother had put in a good word for me. She is the head nurse and usually this kind of task in beneath her position. I don’t insist because usually it doesn’t work for me, but the dream told me how to do it, and I was utterly surprised at how easy it went. The day before I had estimated zero chance of persuading her. “Grandma will love the news”, I told the nurse as I left her office.
Grandma separated her lunch into things she liked and things she didn’t like, and then we split the beef sandwich in two. I was satisfied with the amount she chose to eat because/ I know it’s more than what she usually eats. Then we went downstairs for our smoke, and I brought her back up as I told the nurse. This will be our daily routine until she comes back into the apartment.