“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Joe, John said, has been taken very ill — pains throughout his body, in the bones, but also in the heart area. A test of fluid drawn from the heart area had shown free-floating cancer cells. A CAT-scan did not reveal where they came from. Joe had lain in bed in the trailer, and Margaret had resisted sending him to a hospital. His diabetes is out of control. As I drove John to the hospital, he said the date of my dream checked with developments Margaret had described. I may have tuned into the testing of the fluid around the heart, but I doubt if this can ever be confirmed. It doesn’t matter. John took the car after leaving me at the hospital, and called at 6:45 to say “mission accomplished,” that all were home now. He picked me up at 7:05. The weather is poor, and we had a couple of fairly close calls as he drove me home. I told him to have Margaret call me when I can visit them.

(On March 6, 1984 I wrote this in the daily notes I make each day at the hospital: “This afternoon I described to Jane my dream last night about Joe Bumbalo. I dreamed he was taken very ill with heart trouble — that all he wanted to do was lay on his back in bed — I think in a trailer environment. His wife Margaret was there, and myself. I’m not sure if this meant Joe’s death or not, I told Jane.”

(I then more or less forgot the dream. At 11:55 a.m., as I was waiting for a call from our lawyer, John Bumbalo, Joe’s son, called. He wanted to borrow my car. His had just frozen up due to unsuspected overheating; he had to be at the Chemung County airport at 2:30 to pick up his sister Judy, flying in from the Midwest, then again at 5:30 to pick up Margaret and Joe. I was of course amazed, since the parents weren’t due back from Florida ‘till May.

(Just as I turned Jane on her side after the session, our neighbor Joe Bumbalo — who is very ill with cancer — called to invite me to share Chinese food and rhubarb pie with him and his wife, Margaret. [...] Joe, lying on his couch, saw me trying to swallow, and called Margaret from the kitchen. [...] Margaret, who had been a school nurse, used the Heimlich maneuver: she wrapped her strong arms around me from the back and squeezed. [...] In a flash I’d been prepared for Margaret to use all force necessary, even to the point of one or more broken ribs, as I’d read could happen. [...]

(At the close of yesterday’s session I wrote that I visited Joe Bumbalo after leaving Jane at 7:00 p.m. While I was up in his room, 522, Margaret went down to say hello to Jane. [...]

Margaret’s visit was somewhat involved, as was your visit to Joe’s room.

[...] In other words, she picked up Joe’s fears herself, unless Margaret might have referred to them when she visited Jane last night after I’d left.

(Note: Margaret didn’t — instead, she told Jane that Joe felt so much better that the family planned to take him home Wednesday night, instead of Thursday morning.)

[...] At times I’ve even wondered if I recorded the dream accurately, since in it I didn’t see him having a heart attack, only rubbing his chest area with Margaret helping him, and myself there as only a witness. Margaret thinks the dream remarkable, and is going to check details time-wise.)

(When I got home from 330 I called Margaret Bumbalo. [...]

(I called Margaret Bumbalo in room 522 to see how Joe is. [...] Margaret said he’s grown considerably weaker than when he came into the hospital, though evidently the prognosis is okay.)

(Margaret Bumbalo called this morning and invited me over for supper this evening. [...]

[...] Margaret’s supper was delicious.)

[...] Margaret Bumbalo visited just as she, Jane, was finishing supper. Margaret was surprised at the amount of food my wife had eaten. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo invited me over for supper, and I didn’t know whether to accept or not, since I wanted to be sure I got this session typed. [...] Margaret said that when she looks at Jane now she sees something beside skin stretched over bone. [...]

[...] Margaret told me a couple of days ago that he’d gone back in the hospital because of uncontrolled blood sugar. [...]

[...] Margaret and I had been kidding about her lemon pie at the hospital. [...]

[...] Margaret and I hugged. [...] Margaret asked me if I’d be an honorary pallbearer at Joe’s funeral, and I said sure. [...]

[...] Margaret, Joe’s wife, wasn’t in the dream. Briefly, at the time of the dream, I’d wondered if it hinted at something happening to either of them — Joe or Margaret, that is.)

[...] Last night I had a very interesting, and at the same time almost a bothersome dream: I dreamed that while I was with Margaret and Joe Bumbalo and their son John, I discovered I was a latent homosexual. [...] Margaret said something to me like, “There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” as all of us sat on a swing on their front porch. [...]

(We have a lovely quiet Xmas—Gallaghers here Xmas Eve—four inches or so of snow, Joe and Margaret here last PM—pleasant—I give Rob his planter thing; we get the bed. [...]

[...] My eyes were bothering me some, but I typed some James this afternoon; then Frank came in at 3:30; and Margaret B. came in to visit; I was annoyed; tired of people about, etc., but tried to be pleasant; as we chatted I felt my right foot and ankle changing. [...]

[...] Jane said Margaret, who visited last night, is worried about Joe, and wants to get him to Florida earlier this year. [...]

(“When we went to Florida last winter,” Margaret Bumbalo had told Jane yesterday evening, “I never expected to see you alive again.” [...]

(I told Jane Margaret Bumbalo called me at 12:30, as I was getting ready to leave the house, and told me there were two does in her backyard—so I had to take a few minutes to watch them. [...] Margaret is to visit Jane in a day or two. [...]

(As we talked Jane impressed upon me that she’d definitely picked up that a household pet would help our neighbor Joe Bumbalo a great deal — she wants me to be sure to impress upon Margaret Bumbalo that this is the case; she felt it strongly, it wasn’t just a generalized idea, Jane said.)

[...] He also described a dream he’s had often during the last three months, but hasn’t told Margaret about. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo had asked me over for a drink when I got home, but I was in no hurry. [...]

(Margaret Bumbalo gave Jane a colored-glass butterfly of yellow and blue-stained glass, opened flat for a wall decoration, and fastened by a suction cup. [...]