What the fuck is going on? Now the panic sets in and I’ve got a bit of hamster heart and good lord I think I just puked in my mouth. Stop thinking. Stop freaking. It’s just a dream. Ok, right. Dreaming. This must be the Royal London Hospital I’ll click my heels and wake up because Dorothy, we aren’t in Kansas anymore. And what’s with the half-naked man sprawled on a bed full of straw. Crimson fluid flowing from his nose that makes his breathing whistle and pop, vomit covering his well-worn linen shirt and the god awful stench of urine that reminds one of old folks homes. Jesus christ, what the hell is happening to me.