I dreamt that my father had some kind of boil on his back. It was right in the middle of his spine. He wanted my mother to drain it with a thick syringe. I was quite surprised to discover such a formidable instrument among my parents’ possessions. Although she was a bit worried about the operation, she was prepared to do it. His upper body bare, he was about to lie on his belly on a sofa when I interrupted them. “Are you crazy?” I railed. “You must go see a doctor for such things! Only a doctor can tell you why there is such a boil in the first place!” My parents stopped what they were doing. They were taken aback by my words. My father put his shirt back on. In the end, they agreed to abandon the operation and consult a doctor. When I woke up, I was a bit miffed with myself. It was rather admirable that my parents would take their health in their own hands rather than run to a doctor for everything that ailed them. Actually, I was quite proud of them. Doctor, schmoctor.