Autopsy in a Box

So I had this awesome and bizarre dream this morning. 

My daughter Sarah and I were in a smallish house - a cabin really - and we had just got our shipment of "Autopsy at Home" a large and long enough cardboard box that held a couple of nice frozen cadavers ready for do-it-you-selfers who weren't interested in medical school.  We set up our 'work tables' and were excited about making fantastic Y incisions and I pondered how the bone saw worked and how I was not at all grossed out at the prospect of weighing a brain. 

In my hand, I held a small remote for the little crane like robot machine in the other room.  The little robot crane would pull the bodies up one at a time and back them into the room where we waited and lay them neatly on our gleaming stainless steel tables.  I peeked around the corner to make sure the little robot that would bring us our chilly dead bodies was working when all of a sudden, this guy who closely resembled Ciaran Hinds,   half frozen and bent in a sad and disturbing way, sat up as much as he could -- considering the lower half of his body was on ice and he was, well supposed to be dead -- and very quietly said, "Can you help me?"

"OH MY GOD!" I said to Sarah.  "CALL 9-1-1!"

"I CAN'T!" she said, her giant cell phone flopping willy-nilly in her hands.  I picked up the chunky phone which strangely looked exactly like the large, gold boxy fake phone my granddaughter was playing with yesterday and started to dial. 

At that moment, Sarah looked around the corner and shouted back to me, "HE'S GONE!"  I gasped and the chunky phone dropped to the ground.

At that moment we were magically transported outside and were running in circles around the cabin with a couple of other random folks that just happened to show up for the chase and a 12-ish year old boy who did not look familiar in the least.  Chasing behind and catching up to me quickly was the naked Ciarin Hinds-frozen-dead-guy-not-quite-dead-but-not-actually-re-animated shouting in a near silent scream, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

All of a sudden, one of my TBI clients shot out of the woods in his wheelchair (manual, mind you) with the most determined look on his face and plowed right into the Ciarin Hinds not-quite-zombie-naked-almost-re-animated-but-mostly-alive-guy and killed him.

Then I woke up.