Some people go to bed at night and dream of the open seas, green meadows, batting the winning run of the World Series, or driving a silver Porsche at top speed through their hometown.  Others -- dare I borrow the cliché -- are visited nightly by the man or woman of their dreams.  So to speak.

My dreams have been disturbing lately, especially because they're in such stark contrast to my thoughts and hopes during my waking hours.  Despite any vulnerability at a Freudian interpretation, I'll share my dreams -- because I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who has experienced this before:

Last night, and a few nights ago, I had a vivid dream about who I was and how I felt in the future.  Sometime off in the distant future, I hope, because I sat still.  Unable to move -- stiff in every joint and frozen solid.  It was a window into my arthritis in 40 (?) years.

The feeling was unmistakable:  my condition had progressed past the point of no return.  My limitations were drastic and my world was passing me by.  I was helpless and it was very frightening.

I woke up this morning panicked and relieved at the same time.  I rarely remember dreams, but this one prompted me to get out of bed, put on my shorts and go to the gym.  There I'll do every sort of exercise possible while focusing steadily on driving a Porsche, with my dream girl next to me, to the pier of my boat.

It's all in my head.

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