Mets Day 175 - I dreamed a dream

Last night I had something most usual happen -- I had not one, but two dreams.  Having a single dream has been a rare thing post-surgery, unlike before, when I usually would have multiple vivid dreams each night.  I also used to be able to manipulate my dreams, sort of like a meta-dream (or Inception):  If I didn't like where a dream was going, I could consciously move it into another direction.  I have not had such dreams since my surgery, however.  Last night was the first time since May 2 that I recall having two dreams in one night.  The dreams seemed to come at the end of the night, after I'd gotten up a couple of times, meaning I managed to get back into REM sleep, which is something else I've missed. 

For you armchair Freudians out there, what do you make of these:

Dream 1:  I was walking up a gravel road when I saw a huge African lion at the top of the road.  I ran into an old seemingly abandoned house to the left of the road to hide from the lion, and called 911 on my cell phone.  While I was on the phone, looking out a rusted old screen door for the lion and thinking this was not much of a barrier, a woman walked by the house, followed by two camels and an ostrich.  She brightly called out that I should not worry about the lion because she was going to take it back to the zoo.  I watched as the woman, camels and ostrich flounced away towards the lion and out of my line of sight. I distinctly remember the bouncing of the feathers on the back of the ostrich back and thinking that it had an awkward gait.  The dream ended when I heard a tremendous roar and a shriek. 
Dream 2:  Waterworld meets Costa Concordia.  I was on a wrecked cruise ship in a post-apocalyptic world. I was aware that civilization has we knew it had ended.  People were scrabbling around the filthy ship searching for food and trying to get by.  There were no children; apparently the adults were sterile.  I was a newly arrived stranger; I had no family and knew no one.  I was offered the chance to impregnate a woman but declined because I had a vasectomy, plus I knew that I was still impotent from my surgery.  As I was walking away, the whole ship shifted, and I had to climb a staircase sideways. The dream ended as I was wondering if I could get out before the ship sank. 

Weird.

So did I feel more well-rested?  I'm not sure.  I thought about it when I woke up, and couldn't decide.  I used to be more indecisive, but now I'm not so sure.