Dream About Friend Cutting Throat

I was with a friend, and someone older related her to a woman from a Greek tragedy. My friend didn't know the story, and I couldn't remember the story at the time but I knew it wasn't complementary. My friend decided to act out the tragedy, playing the part of the woman she had been related to. She dressed in a Grecian style gown, and laid down on a table, reenacting the woman laying on an altar. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't what happened next. My friend made a superficial cut to the 'priest's' throat with something like a scapel. Then she slit her own throat. She cut deep, deep enough i could see the hole where her esophagus was. But there was no blood. As soon as she cut herself, I started to panic. For one thing, I was NOT expecting her to cut so deep. For another, I knew what was about to happen. Because just like in thr tragedy, my friend wasn't bleeding. But I remembered the story now. When the woman in the tragedy rose from the altar, amazed by the gods grace in keeping her alive, she began to bleed profusely (modern science suggests this occurrence had something to do with gravity, pressure, and angles) and she died. My friend was amazed. She wasn't bleeding. There was no blood at all. I tried to clasp a hand over the wound but I knew it wouldn't be effective. I rushed into my grandmother's room. I needed towels and I needed help. My grandmother asked me what was wrong. I blurted out something about how "she did it to herself". A thump came from the kitchen. My friend had gotten up from the table and initiated bloodflow. She bled out in a matter of moments. I frantically called 911 and explained the situation, asking for help. The dispatcher informed me that there was a back log, but someone would be there shortly. We covered the body and blood pool with towels. Hours passed; no police, no first responders. I called 911 again. Was assured that units were aware of the situation and were on their way. We had to move the body. A day passed. Two days passed. Still no police. By this point, I was MAD. This was rude and disrespectful on SO MANY LEVELS (not to mention unduly additionally traumatizing). I drove down to the police station. The dispatcher I'd spoken to on both occasions had never reported the incident. It was only because I had call logs showing that I had called 911, and the corresponding records from the 911 center were absent that the station discovered that the dispatcher chronically made cases disappear before they even existed. When I got back home, police cruiser following behind, it was to discover that my friend was not dead as we thought, but had fallen into a coma from the bloodloss and somehow miraculously survived.