Dreaming of Sugar Plums

In my junior year at college I decided to take an anatomy/physiology course. This was, obviously, back in the days when I thought I'd grow up to be a doctor. Alas, that white coat has been donated and what I'm left with is a catalogue of memories from which to draw recurring dreams. Specifically, today, I've been reminded of the time I was dissecting a calf's heart and it was still connected to the lungs/trachea. Finding this an interesting, rare situation, I cut off a finger of a rubber glove, inserted the calf trachea into the finger-hole and blew air into the rubber glove from the original opening. In this way I entertained, nay, educated my peers by literally inflating and deflating the calf lungs while people took turns holding them. Keep this in mind.



Below, I've recounted the dream that drudged up this memory, I'll be the first to tell you how boring it is to listen to other people's dreams so I promise I'll keep this somewhat exciting... by utilizing italics. 



5 people hot-boxed an Aerostar minivan.
With carbon monoxide.


I open the sliding side door and pull out the three people in the back. After some crude dream-like CPR that inevitably involves a sledge hammer, they survive.


The 4th person is my high school nemeses and I can't reach her on the passenger side (though I'm not really sure I'm trying).


The 5th person, driver's side, has lost the entire top of his head from the jaw up. So CPR involves pounding on the chest, looking quizzically at the non-face, and blowing into a windpipe.


The guy survives and all I can think is that he's blind (and brainless? Who knows why I could only diagnose the absence of eyes - potentially it's a good thing I'm not a doctor) and as he starts rolling towards me like some maniacal steam rolling threat, I reach deep into my bag 'o tricks and come up with the only thing I'm sure will save me: I shall do 'high knees' as I run away from the rolling man with a windpipe for a forehead.

See? I bet you're sitting there thinking about all the ways you can make my life more exciting, thus robbing me of the time to cross-reference my sick dreams with atypical anatomy lessons. Mission accomplished.