OK, so it happened again.
It was about 6:00 am this morning, when I dreamed that I was on my back patio with my two little dogs. It started to rain, so we came inside. Now, this door, the back door, leads into a basement stairway, and also into the garage.
Inside the garage, is the kitchen door. So, once inside, I locked the outside
door. Once in the garage, I closed a second, inside door to the stairway and
back door. This door has no doorknob; it just swings.
I walked to the kitchen door and standing there, I waited for the dogs to come into the house. They didn't. Instead, they sniffed around in the dark as they usually do, and at that time I heard a scratching sound, coming from behind that inside door without a knob.
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
[pause...]
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
The dogs didn't seem to notice. Unusual for them. I walked back to that door
and listened, and I held my hand in position to stop the door, should it burst
open.
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
[pause...]
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
The scratching wouldn't stop. I whispered for the dogs to come. They heard me and right away came to my side. They sniffed at the bottom of the door, which is where the sound seemed to be coming from. I thought it might be a mouse, a squirrel, or something like that, having crawled in behind us.
The dogs didn't seem to care at all, and that was odd. But an image was
developing in my mind. The image of a man, bending down and scratching at the bottom of the door - as if to try and fool me into thinking he was a mouse. He, or it, continued scratching...
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
[pause...]
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
I moved the dogs away with my foot as I pulled open the door. There was just
enough light from the open kitchen door to let me see into that three square
foot area behind the scratching door. I peeked and then pulled open the door,
but I couldn't open it more than a few inches. Something strong was pulling back, and it was no mouse! I stopped pulling and IT stopped pulling...
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
[pause...]
"Scratch-scratch" "Scratch-scratch"
I did the kind of thing that only I would think of doing at a time like that. I
scratched back! Then came the answer - more scratching - duplicating MY
scratching. Nope, this was no mouse.
So, one more time I tried to pull open the door, but only enough to see who was behind it. I used my foot to prevent the intruder from shoving the door into my face, but instead of shoving, he pulled it closed again! He wouldn't let me open the door, and he wouldn't stop scratching.
At that point, I realized what was happening. It was an old familiar ghost...
who had come back to attack me again! I immediately shoo-ed my dogs toward the kitchen door and we all ran into the house. There I could lock the kitchen door with its dead-bolt.
BUT... at that moment... I felt a strong pain in my chest and it woke me from the dream.
This has happened so many times, that I wasn't even startled at the event. I
was, however, groaning quite loudly, due the chest pain. Many are familiar with the term, "angina". (Pronounced, AN-gin-uh". It means heart-pain.)
It really hurt, too. Maybe the worst yet. Not the worst 'ghost-dream', but
definitely the worst pain. I got up to find my 'Nitro-glycerine pills', nearly
stumbling and still groaning. This pain is no joke, folks. It IS a party stopper.
After the usual four minutes, the tiny pill had melted under my tongue and was absorbed. The pain quickly subsided and in another four minutes, my breathing was back to normal; the feeling of heat was gone from my head and neck, and I felt sure that I would be alright. That is to say, no sudden cardiac arrest this time. No heart attack, either. Well, for all I know, it could have been a heart attack in progress.
Before my cardiac arrest, three years ago, this ghost was a frequent visitor -
as if Death itself were stalking me. Each episode began with a dream about the ghost of a man - who would enter the house while I was sleeping and try to lure me outside. But then he would not allow me to get out - thus trapping me in my own house.
After my cardiac arrest, the ghost "attacks" stopped, but I began to dream
about people who are dead - and I still do. These dreams about the dead don't bother me at all. It is only that ghost-dream that causes the trouble.
And so I ask... is there another sudden cardiac arrest in my future? Is this ghost a messenger? Will I still be alive to blog tomorrow? I just don't know. We'll see...
Until then, Death is what I live with.
- - - - - - - - - -
Originally posted by me on Tuesday, August 9, 2011 at 7:27 AM
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