Dream of: 17 January 1986 "Slashed Necks"
I was sleeping on a bed in an apartment when a woman who was apparently living in the apartment with me woke me up. She told me my uncle George and another woman were lying in the kitchen of the apartment and that someone had slashed their necks. She said my uncle was already dead but that the woman was still barely alive.
I was very tired. I lay thinking probably nothing could be done for them now and I dozed back off. I slept for about five minutes and suddenly awoke again. What the woman had said hadn't fully registered before. Suddenly the gravity of the situation struck me and I jumped out of the bed.
I ran into the kitchen where I found George and a woman who was apparently his girlfriend or wife lying on the floor next to him. Both their necks had been slashed, although I didn't see any blood. They were both still alive.
I began wondering if the person who had cut them was still in the apartment. I walked to the front door, opened it and looked outside where I saw a long hallway which looked like a hotel's. I hollered, "Help!"
Some people were in the hallway and some men quickly ran over to me. One man was carrying a handgun and another had a rifle. I let three men with guns come into the room but I kept the others out. I explained to the men what had happened. Meanwhile someone called the police and an ambulance. I hoped they would come quickly.
I walked back over to the woman still lying on the floor. I helped her sit up. The wound didn't appear to be deep and she seemed to be able to talk a little. The wound could be sewn together; she would surely survive.
She seemed as if she wanted to say something. Perhaps she wanted to tell us something about who had attacked her. I gave her an envelope and a red bic pen. She began writing something on the envelope about the person who had slashed her throat.
I said something to her about her wound. She seemed to realize it wasn't a deep cut. I thought about how deeply one would need to slash into the esophagus to cut off someone's air. Apparently the person who had slashed her throat hadn't realized that and hadn't cut deeply enough.
We heard an ambulance. I figured we were probably in about the tenth floor of the building and the ambulance squad would need to come up in the elevator. The elevator doors opened directly into the apartment. We waited and waited for what seemed to be a half hour for the elevator doors to open.
Finally the doors did open and some medical personnel dressed in white stepped into the room, pushing two beds with wheels on them. They began undoing some straps on one of the beds and they asked me if I would undo the straps on the second bed. I began undoing the straps on the second bed. The straps seemed to be arranged so they could be quickly undone.
I began wondering how much the ambulance was going to cost. The beds obviously had to be prepared for each emergency. It would probably be quite expensive.
One doctor began looking at George and the woman. He explained that the wounds weren't deep. But when he referred to George he called him " J.R. Ewing" (the name of a character in the television series "Dallas"). The doctor spoke of how rich J.R. was. He also talked about how J.R. liked to row boats. Apparently J.R. often took parts in rowing contests.
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