It was a dark and stormy night.  Wait…I am in Southern California, it can’t be a dark and stormy night.  It was a hot, dry, windy night.  OK, that sounds terrible. I am going back to it was a dark and stormy night…trying to set a mood here. You are just going to have to trust me.

I was doing some reading up on some of the lesser known symptoms of Parkinsons. The T.V. Is on. I always have it playing. It’s like white noise and it keeps me company. My eyes start getting tired so I put down my iPad to rest them. In a few minutes I am fast asleep.

Everything is dark. There is a shuffling sound. Trying to find the light, I reach out in front of me – nothing.  I am sure I will trip over something if I move. Suddenly the lights come on. Bright lights, flashing lights…and music…loud music. An announcer begins to speak over the PA system. “Welcome to Wheeling and Dealing, with your Host the Beast.”

The Beast walks onstage carrying a rather large microphone, and wearing a suit that looks like he is part of an old Ziegfried and Roy show. Where the heck am I?

I hear my name being called: “Morgan! Come on down!” – blasts out over the speakers.  Getting  the feeling like I don’t want to play this game. Suddenly the floor below me starts moving like those walkways at the airport that take you to your gate. But this moving sidewalk isn’t taking me to a gate where I get on a plane to some tropical island. It is taking me down to the stage. I try running backwards on the walkway, but I am getting nowhere fast.

The Beast clears his throat and speaks into his microphone (does he really need that thing?). “Welcome to Wheeling and Dealing! ”  I think to myself  “this is some crazy game show, like The Wheel of Fortune, Let’s Make a Deal and The Price Is Right, all rolled up in one.”

The spotlight moves over to the side of the stage. Someone is coming out from behind a curtain. It’s Carol Meryl…or is it Vanna White?  No! Oh No, it’s ….it’s …Tattoo. He stands over by the doors and points to them. Hey, you know what?  Tattoo looks pretty good in an evening gown.

The Beast begins his spiel. “Behind the four doors you will find Depression, Anxiety, Apathy or Fatigue.” Tattoo points to a bunch of Mini-me’s of The Beast, all running around behind the doors. Each one has a little tee shirt on with one of the symptoms written on it. The Beast continues: “I am going to close the curtain now, and my helpers will each run behind a door. Then, when I open the curtain…you can pick your prize.

Ok he’s got to be kidding. My prize?  Pick a door – any door. You pick a door, Beast, and I will gladly open it for you…as long as there is a deep cavern on the other side of it.

The Beast starts walking towards me. I am trying to think, but everything is becoming jumbled.  Let’s see, I already have anxiety. So if I pick that door, it will be ok because I’m there already. Oh no, but it could make it doubly so, and then I would be really anxious. I start pacing back and forth, wringing my hands. Maybe I should run. Where is the exit?  I can’t find it. Don’t they have building codes here, wherever this is?

Just when I am about to pick a door, the Beast says to me: “Or…you could spin the wheel.”  He smiles a sickening grin. Is that broccoli stuck in his teeth?  Suddenly another spotlight clicks on, revealing Tattoo rolling out a huge wheel. Now what do I do?  Do I buy a “vowel”?  I would rather buy a “trowel” and dig a hole and drop The Beast in it.

If I spin the wheel and it lands on bankrupt do all my symptoms go away?  Or do I just get huge medical bills. When do we play the part of this game that’s like Hollywood Squares, or the Match game?  Those were fun games. I wouldn’t mind right now — sitting in a box and cracking jokes…Paul Lynde on one side, and Alan Sues on the other.

I turn and start to run. The Beast drops his microphone and chases after me. Tattoo grabs the skirt of his evening gown, hikes it up and follows suit. I am yelling at the other people in the studio, asking for help, but there’s no one there. Where have they all gone?

I trip over my own feet and face plant myself. I hear a loud noise and wake up. It was me falling off the couch. Thank goodness it was a dream.

That is absolutely the last time I go to sleep with the Game Show Channel on.

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