Back pain, writer’s mind, pain medication, and a wonderful therapist

Wow, what an exhausting night filled with crazy dreams.  It has to be the combination of my back pain, the mind of a writer, a wonderful therapist, and the addition of pain medication.  Otherwise, I would have to accept the possibility that I’m a bit strange.  Hey, maybe they’ll write on my tombstone, “A good man, but a bit strange.”
A little background.  I’ve been having lower back pain for the last two years. I entered pain management and received injections in my lower back.  At first, they lasted for several months, but now they give me one pain free month.  That was three months ago.  Monday I will begin a different procedure where they block the nerves in my lower back.
Now the second point.  My wife loves dishes, and has multiple sets which she has accumulated over the past 46 years of marriage.  Yes, that’s what I said, 46 years.  We would buy a new set, she kept the old set.  It went on and on.  Finally, I went to Lowe’s and bought a cheap-ass set of cabinets that I hung in our garage.  Unfortunately, I didn’t take into account the weight load on the cabinets.  Days later, there was a crashing sound in our garage.  The cabinets had fallen onto the top of our car, causing substantial damage.  Why didn’t I have a lower deductible?  Well, the good news — we lost a set of dishes.  Now, a year or so later, she wants another set of dishes, followed by “If only you had installed better cabinets, not that cheap shit that you always buy.”
Now, the final point.  I have been in longterm therapy for some time dealing with the effects of childhood sexual abuse.  My therapist is a very skilled and compassionate therapist and would do anything for me.
Okay, here comes the dream.  It happened during the night, as most dreams do.  The dog was in her crate next to our bed.  Bailey, she’s my dog, takes such smooth rhythmic breaths.  I had taken some pain medication which should help me sleep.  I’m lying on top of the bed, watching some television, feeling myself slide onto that magical carpet that takes me to “la-la land.”  The back pain becomes a distant memory as I become surrounded by a gel-like substance.  Ah, this must be love, I thought.  Eventually, when, I’m uncertain, I found myself in a large store shopping for a new set of dishes for my wife.  Yes, another set of dishes.  I found a set for $225. which seemed okay.  But I couldn’t happen notice this set for over $600.  Two young ladies working at the store walked my way.
“Can we help you?” they asked.  This was a weekend job for the ladies.  They worked full time at the local Women’s Center, and we know how underpaid they are.  (I forgot to mention that I am on the board of directors for the Center, and I consider the employees to be angels.  How do I know they are angels you might ask?  Well, it’s because I’ve seen their wings.)  Okay, back to my dream.  I told the ladies how much I liked the $600. set but it was a lot of money.  They answered by saying that I could buy the set for a 60% reduction if I called a certain person.  “Who might that be?” I asked.  The person is a therapist who can get you the dishes for 60% off.  She is busy seeing clients at the moment, but you should call her later and give her our names. She will take care of you.
“Okay,” I said.  “Why would you tell me this.  You are employees for this store.  Something doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s okay,” they said.  “Just do it.  This therapist will do anything for you.  Just trust her.”
Well, that’s my dream.  I began putting all the pieces together in order to determine its meaning — the dishes; the back pain, a writer’s mind, a wonderful therapist, and the pain medication.  Yes, it makes sense, as most dreams do.  I’m not all that strange.