I’ve written about dreams before and how they can inspire stories (and even blog posts)! But I’ve had two dreams (I’m only going to post one here) that didn’t come to me when I was asleep – they came to me when I was on death’s door.
Warning – it you’re squeamish about blood, please don’t read any further.
When I was in my early twenties I suffered a miscarriage. I was almost 7 months pregnant and spent several days in the hospital. When it was all over I went home to recover. I remember my mother feeding me fish and beans because ‘that’s what makes you better’. But I didn’t get better. For about a week I was lethargic, depressed and in pain. At the end of that week I had a bad fever and found it hard to get out of bed. My hubby called the doctor who came over to see…
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