On a shelf just above my head sits a brand-new copy of THE INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS by Sigmund Freud. It has rested there for months and I’ve yet to muster the courage necessary to pull it down and start to read it. Of course, some night dreams are fairly obvious. If you’re having dreams of committing acts of deviate sex, or violence against others, then I highly recommend that you see a mental health professional as soon as possible. My dreams are too mundane to warrant any kind of expert analysis. I’m wandering around a parking lot, looking vainly for my missing car. Or I’m in some endless school corridor, in search of the assigned classroom, knowing that I’ve not done my homework or prepared for the day’s exam. I don’t need the famous psychoanalyst to tell me these dreams signify a perception that there’s something missing in my life or that I’ve failed in some way. Then, there are the potty dreams. I’ve had this ileostomy too long to remember if I experienced potty dreams pre-surgery. But I’m forever noticing that telltale bulge just below the waist and looking for an acceptable bathroom in which to empty. There’s always something wrong, though. The place is as filthy and smelly as a French Quarter pissoir, or none of the stalls have doors, or they’re all occupied, or something else is preventing me from relieving my discomfort. Then, I wake up, and voilà, I really do have to go. The facility with which the body and the brain communicate, even while asleep, is extraordinary. But sometimes I wonder if dreams aren’t more all-encompassing than we think. There are times when I feel that my whole life is some kind of dream, and I hope that whoever is having it doesn’t wake up too soon.

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When I found this web site, I didn't think its name had anything to do with actually meeting an ostomate but I later learned there were some folks who did meet and develop relationships. How good is that? That wasn't my intention. I definitely didn't want anyone to meet me. I felt broken and wasn't prepared to express those feelings. I thought it was a place where ostomates wrote about themselves, posed questions, shared thoughts, told jokes and, sometimes, just vented. I thought of it as a community of folks with similar interests and various degrees of experience. Mostly I found some of the most caring, selfless, wise and understanding people I ever imagined. I was so impressed with some of the writings; not because of their literary value but the way in which they addressed such a very complex environment. I read hundreds of exchanges and admired the way folks cared for each other. I became hopeful with my own situation and looked forward to the next day's offerings. Certainly some contributors stood out with their experience or particular skills in addressing some things but it seemed like a total effort with synergistic results. I felt blessed to have found this site. I still do.
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