I'm at work in some kind of office - I don't know what we do, but it might have to do with theater. There's a number of people here, at various kinds of desks and tables in an open room with windows. [There's been more before this, and] I've just had some kind of accident away from here, where something glass exploded in my face. It was a kind of safety glass, that didn't all fly everywhere or I would've been all cut up, but very fine pieces or grains did fly out with great force, right in my face. I was a bit stunned for a minute, then decided I'd better take a look at the damage, so I went to (the restroom?) mirror. There aren't any cuts, but my face looks strange, white, brittle, as if there was a thin top layer on it, like a peel-away mask after it dries, but loose. That's scary. I don't know if there are pieces of glass embedded in my face, I don't know what exactly the damage is or what I should do. I think I shouldn't touch it, that might do more harm than good, I'd better call a doctor. I go back to my desk, which faces the windows and most of the people here can't see my face. I talk to 1 or 2 of them, but they don't see anything, or at least don't say anything about how I look. I wonder privately if that means my face doesn't look that unusual to them, but I can still feel it and I'm still worried. (It feels sensitive, brittle, uncomfortable - something's going on for sure.) I start to look up a doctor; then I realize I've got a card in my purse (or somewhere here) that someone gave me for a doctor she recommended. I find it and pull it out, a standard business card. I think about rinsing my face - would that be a good idea, if there's glass in it, shouldn't I be getting it out? But how would I do that, maybe it would aggravate the injury to have water running over it. As an experiment, I reach up and lightly touch a spot on my right cheek, to see how it feels - I brush very gently over the skin a bit, and can't tell anything much, just that it's sensitive and sort of dry, flat-feeling. Then I pick up my hand mirror and look. It doesn't start to bleed, on top anyway, but underneath the skin, capillaries start to open up, bleeding internally. I can see the red blood running in a vein, this way, then that way. As it comes to the end of a vein's route, another route starts right next to it. Oh, dear. Eeek. I get up to find somebody to help, I want to see somebody in particular. I run into Bettye Short and a man, behind a partition which serves as a sort of hallway, where the restrooms are. They're talking, and I don't want to interrupt them, so I wait a few seconds for an opportunity, then ask what they make of my face. [I am not remembering their reply if any - it seems as if they advised me to call a doctor right away. Next, I am wondering how it would be if I immersed my face in water, ever so carefully and slowly, so as not to put any pressure on it; maybe that would give the opportunity for the particles to "float" out. This last, however, may have been after I woke up and was trying to get back to sleep.]