People who know me also know I was affected in a devastating way by Levaquin, a fluoroquinolone antibiotic. The syndrome that results is called FQT or FQAD. It’s progressively disabling, unless identified and treated to minimize symptoms. And it’s very hard to identify. Many doctors are unaware of it, and at this time still blithely prescribe fluoroquinolones as a quick fix for any kind of infection, despite the FDA’s black box warning to the contrary.
FQT has some pretty severe effects on the mind. One has to do with fear of death.
The biggest psychological barrier for me, with FQT, is seeing that a long road ahead still exists for me. FQT has a wacky mix of floating, pop-up symptoms keeps one guessing all the time, and teaches one to take baby steps, and hold one’s eyes only to a limited path forward.
Well, that works when it comes to learning how to hold back with movement therapy and getting enough rest in. And in fact, it is the only way to handle movement therapies, without incurring tendon and muscle damage that makes one more disabled.
But it’s a fearful, disheartening and counterproductive approach, when it comes to understanding oneself as a individual who has the right to life – and a joyful one, at that.
More than a year ago, I had a numinous dream, that included a turtle embedded in muddy, red earth outside a bluestone doorstep and path belonging to a cottage I was living in, in the dream. The turtle was pale – almost translucent – and green – with a look as if it was made of jade, or celadon-glazed porcelain.
I looked up the meaning of turtle in dream, yesterday. The online “Dream Dictionary” said this:
“A dream with a turtle symbolizes motherhood, fertility, wisdom, shelter, loyalty, spiritual development and longevity. … The dream may also imply that you are going through a slow period in your life, or you need to take things slow or be more patient and progress at a steady pace in some part of your waking life.”
I like the longevity part. I’m already doing the patient, slow part.
In the dream, it was my task to gently work the turtle out of the mud so it wouldn’t suffocate.
It was significant in the dream that the earth was muddy and red, and the turtle was pale green.
Here’s what Dream Dictionary says about mud:
“To dream that you are walking in mud suggests that you are feeling weighed down by a situation, problem, or relationship. You are feeling frustrated. To dream that mud has gotten on your clothing means that your reputation is being attacked and called into question.”
Here’s what Dream Dictionary says about red:
“Red is an indication of raw energy, force, vigor, intense passion, aggression, power, courage, impulsiveness and passion. The color red has deep emotional and spiritual connotations. Consider the phrase “seeing red” to denote anger. Alternatively, the color red in your dream indicates a lack of energy.”
Here is what Dream Dictionary says about green:
“Green can often mean “go”, such as power on button or a traffic light. Green can symbolize newness and freshness. It can also symbolize money, wealth, riches, and prosperity.”
These symbolic interpretations of the mud, turtle and two colors express what’s in conflict in my life, right now.
Also in the dream, across the road from the cottage was a huge warehouse filled with art supplies. It was all mine (spoken with a Gollum-like joyful, greedy cackle). It was red, too, as was the interior of the cottage. My sense in the dream was that I had more wealth (artistically) than I knew – I was surprised that the warehouse was there, that it was mine, and that it was fully stocked. I also had a sense that that wealth would always be available, that there was no strong urgency to cross the road and take things from the warehouse, as yet.
While this is all symbolic, it’s also playing out in my life, in profound ways, right now.
When I had the dream, I could barely interpret it.
Now it seems like the story of my future.
I have work to do – with, and on, myself – to take myself to a *new* place where I will be doing thing I’ve wanted to do all my life, but didn’t have a way to achieve.
So, now, I’m grimly hopeful that there’s a long road ahead for me, and that I can live, and be healthy enough to walk that journey, and get the turtle out of the mud, and cross the road and get the things I need to make art, and welcome people into a warm-interiored country cottage with a stone path and doorstep.
A year ago, I’d have said you were nuts, if you’d proposed I’d be seeing life like that now.