Dream About Lost Tickets And Medical Issues

The dream begins in a small little room in Michigan that belongs to my cousin, Carmelita, and her daughter, Tina. Tina and I are the same age in real life, but in this dream I was in my early 20s and she was a teenager. I was sitting on the couch, animatedly conversing with a woman who was maybe twice my age. She was going to take me to the airport because today is the day that I was to return home to North Carolina. So we drove to the airport. It was maybe three or four hours early and I realized that my tickets home were nowhere to be found. There were elevators at the airport and I waited for the elevator that was arriving after a plane full of passengers departed. I did not know what to do. I called my mother in a panic, but I didn't let her know that I had lost the return tickets. I was going from cubicle to cubicle in the airport trying to find someone who could help me. I could not find anyone. Suddenly the airport was also a medical office and my uncle Otis was there. For some reason he was having to put letters together to make the names of his medications. First I thought he was trying to spell Vyvanse. Then he said, no, it's something else. He wanted me to take whatever medicine that was and take him off of it and put him onto a medication he'd previously been on. I told him I would not do this because I don't know as much about those kind of medicines as I used to, that I specialize in psychiatry, so I know psychiatric medications. Besides that, I would be angry if a PCP changed psychiatric medications that I was prescribing. Although Uncle Otis was my patient, when he showed me the bottle that he was referring to, it was amitriptyline, and it was in a dose of 40mg, which doesn't come in. Even though I am not his psychiatrist, I was mad at the PCP for adjusting this medication. Then I was in a hospital. It looked like my medical school hospital, University of North Carolina. I was perhaps 30, 35 now. I went to the office where I was supposed to be working. It was an office that was one of many arranged in a U-shaped hallway. I saw some nurses on my way in that I used to know, and we warmly exchanged greetings. They told me that the nurses working with the doctors on my area were deliberately being very slow, which made the doctors work late and through lunch. The doctors were known to be somewhat mean and condescending to these nurses. The nurse asked me why I thought this was going on, and I said, because the doctors are disrespectful and mean to the nurses, and she said, exactly. I said, I bet they won't be that way towards me, because I'm not that way towards them. Then I found out that my nurse was Vicky. This was a nurse I had worked with in real life. After baby Alex died, I was back to work in three days. The first patient that was assigned to me was a newborn baby check. I told them I could not do it, please give me something else. Vicky said, if she wasn't ready to come back to work, she shouldn't have come. I knew Vicky would not be kind to me as I was kind to her. I knew I was in for a very frustrating and long day.