I had a very strange dream while sleeping at noon at the summer house. Maybe it was because I slept on the couch where my great-grandfather spent his last years of life, paralyzed, before dying on it. In the dream, I was a social worker or a medic, which is what I really am. I dreamed that I was going door to door, and along the way I met some low-lifes who said something disgusting to me. They followed me to the home of one of the patients, a small old man who couldn't talk and didn't understand half of what was happening. They started breaking down the door to harm me and the old man. The door to the apartment was made of wrought iron; it looked more like a fireplace fence. It was locked with a lock that was very easy to bend. I used every means at hand to protect us, from a screwdriver to boiling water. Finally, I grabbed a piece of heavy iron. They only stopped when there was literally nothing left of the leader’s head. Then I hugged the old man and cried and cried, and I woke up crying.
