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A male patient, well advanced in his analysis, reported a pair of dreams which illustrates with crystal clarity how effectively the ego, even in sleep, can deal with disturbing stimuli.
The 'psychic situation',1 as Freud called it, was, in barest outline, as follows. The patient was in a hospital, his leg scrubbed and bandaged in preparation for the surgical removal of an exostosis the following afternoon. He understood that the operation was to be performed under local anesthesia, although he recalled that a surgeon once told him that local anesthesia does not work well in operations on bones and joints; moreover, on admission, a physician who had stopped in felt sure that a general anesthetic would be used and expressed surprise that the patient had been told otherwise. Nevertheless, that evening the patient was not aware of more than minimal anxiety. Although a private room had been reserved, the facilities were so crowded that it was necessary for him to share a double room. This was a considerable disappointment as he had hoped to luxuriate for the few days in the leisure of well-controlled privacy relieved by reading, writing, and a few pleasant visits. This wish for a transient, mellow semiseclusion was further frustrated by noises of the corridor, the elevator, and a ward just outside the door—a confusing, distracting cacophony which forestalled sleep until a small dose of seconal induced it. During the evening he thought: 'What kind of dream does one have the night before such a minor but possibly discomforting operation?' His curiosity was satisfied upon awakening by recalling vividly a pair of dreams.
Dream 1. I am all alone, viewing a pleasant but faintly somber landscape. A dead tree stands out on the skyline, rather marring it.
Dream 2. There are many people of all ages about a pond which is used in winter for ice skating. A large smooth boulder