I am standing in a public bathroom in a health clinic place and combing my hair. I am very upset, because I scratched a sore scab and it is coming off with my hair attached (like my psoriasis of long ago) and I have bald spots. I am looking in the mirror at all the ugly black and blue bald spots and bloody lines where I've scratched them. Maybe my daughter Ellie, or someone like her, agrees to shampoo my hair and color it with dye. My hair is a dark black now. I don't know how I like that (color of June's hair). My blouse and bra are off and now two old men, gay men, get in the bathtub to do therapy together. I feel a bit uncomfortable, being so naked, but think, "Oh well, it's OK. This is a clinic." I turn and am now putting on my bra. One of the old men, now out of the tub says, "I hope she keeps the cleavage. It's great cleavage." I look into his eyes and he has on weird glasses like opera glasses inset into his eyes. I hurriedly try to get dressed. There is another room where patients are being treated, mental therapy. I am pacing. I am now a man. My friend comes in and asks where I am, even though I am pacing right past him. Other people (women) in the room laugh. I say, "Vagina," and a man laughs archly, "Aha." I am upset he misunderstood me and say, "No, not that meaning. I was trying to explain about a woman being pregnant." [BL]