Realest Dream Ever

I've had dreams that felt real before. Many of them. Once, Bono acted like he was my friend and gave me a styrofoam cooler. Once I got that cooler loaded into the minivan I was driving, the whole thing blew up. Another time some woman I didn't even know converted me to Judaism on the side of a New York City subway platform just by touching me on the forehead.

Whether it was the allergy medication I was on, or the Ny-Quil I downed before bed to induce a good night's sleep (it didn't work, by the way; the allergies won out), last night's dream was easily the most serious and real I've had in a long while.

The exact details are a bit sketchy, but the gist of it goes like this: Matt Damon was my doctor. I must have been complaining about headaches or something, because I was in an exam room with Dr Damon and he was holding up x-rays of my head.

And in the most serious tone I've ever heard or seen from the Academy Award-winning actor, he says, "I wish I could say I have good news. What you've got is an inoperable brain tumor. I'd guess you've got about 10 more good years in you."

It hit me like a ton of bricks. There were other parts of the dream, like some random scene where members of my family (only they weren't my real family) were sorting through crystal glassware and deciding who gets it. (This may or may not have had anything to do with my terminal illness.)

But having to face my own mortality, even in the dream-addled haze of allergy medicine, was something else. It was, to say the least, quite the trip.

As far as I know - and apart from the allergies - I am in good health and should have more than "about 10 more good years" in me.