It's been a while since I dreamed, figuratively and literally. Night before last, my dream was more of a night terror. Synopsis: it was like a very detailed, almost memory-esk dream of me when I was supposedly about 5 or 6ish. And I was a murderer. A serial killer. And good at it. It was terrible, detailed, disturbing, and terrifying. I don't remember the details of last night's dream, but I woke up with Maroon 5's "She will be loved" playing in my head. It's still stuck on repeat. Much better than stabby kid-ness though. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pUVxaYdgS_Q
Or rather, polyps. Three to be exact. Excised, removed, sent for testing. Colonoscopy was a moving experience. Dr Frantz took good care of me. He thought they were all precancerous, noncancerous. Waiting for pathology to be sure.