Confessions of the Sick Mind

My brain in encased in a fleshy sinus induced cloudlike shell. Behind my eyes are the stabbing pains of a dull knife. My nose is faucet of clear snot on one side, and cakey green snot on the other. They battle, switching sides every 15 minutes. My throat is scratchy and pained. Obviously, I am still sick. Last night after Robitussining, I sat upright in bed coughing unable to sleep. When I finally did fall asleep I had a dream in which I had another baby, a son. I could not figure out a name for him but was debating between Thomas and Christopher. Also, somebody at the dinner party my in-laws were having tried to kidnap him and Owen. I knew this because I found their sippy cups in the front of their car. My mother-in-law served a salad that contained yellow peppers. I said "Are these yellow peppers?" And she said yes, I and looked a John and said "Did they just forget I was allergic?" "I mean I only passed out in Kauai." As my throat closed and dizziness ensued, I tried to breast feed my new baby only to repeatedly dose him with a spraying boob. Needless to say, the weary, sick and heavily medicated mind does make for nighttime drama. Also, I don't like those names for a baby boy at all. Tommy McCall sounds like some drunk at the end of a bar who just got out of jail. And I am pretty sure in my dream I said Chris McCall - oh goody, just like Chris March from Project Runway. Lord help me.