Shape-shifting Toy, Transfusion, and Exorcism

Through the night, it was a mish-mash of images, and I'm only able to isolate a couple of them clearly:

I feel I'm in the midst of some sort of party.  There is definite feeling of celebration, and it also has an old-world feel to it.  Some women are wearing old-fashioned kerchiefs around their heads and tend to congregate together while the men do the same.  But it's all very happy and noisy, with lots of food being passed around.

I leave the party and head to another part of the house - I'm not quite sure if it's to the basement or out to the patio - to spend time with the children.  There are lots of toys around, suitable for all ages, but one catches my eye in particular.  It's a beautifully crafted doll-house, about three floors high, made of wood and lovingly painted.  Beside it is a wooden car - and now I see that although it's wood, painted in medium Wedgwood blue, it doesn't keep its shape.  This block of wood keeps morphing into different shaped vehicles, and when I try to touch it my hand passes right through it, although I can still feel some substance to it.  It's almost as though it's trying to make up its mind as to what shape it likes best!  I watch this for a few minutes, realizing I'm seeing something brand new and wonderful here.

There is a sense that time has passed and I am in some sort of medical facility.  I am one of three people who are going through a procedure involving a series of tubes being attached to the right shoulder and from there to the left hip. Somehow it's meant to take the blood from one place and recycle it into another.  The tubes are very small, about half the size of normal IV tubes.  The nurse is having trouble with my shoulder tube, as she tries to get the connection firm.  She finally succeeds, and I watch as the clear interior becomes filled with rich ruby-red blood.  I feel no pain at all, and in fact, am told that I can stroll around and not be confined to the bed.  I walk into a small room where I have a friend waiting, and as we talk, she suddenly points to a fountain of blood shooting from my shoulder, soaking the fiber acoustic ceiling tiles.  I feel totally annoyed with the incompetence of the nurse, clamp down on the end of the tube, and go looking for someone who can do the job properly.

Coming through a blur of other images, I now find myself in a Catholic church.  Some kind of ceremony is about to take place and I am led to the front of the altar.  There are priests dressed in traditional robes of green and gold, and I am particularly struck by one of them - he's a short man, bald and wearing glasses.  He conveys a feeling of mild serenity and composure, but there's just *something* about him that warrants my attention.  He smiles at me, and I ask him what his function is here.  He tells me that he's an exorcist and he's been called in to deal with a particularly difficult case of possession.

I suddenly wonder what I'm doing here - I'm so outside my comfort zone! At that moment the ceremony begins, and I find myself drawn into the entire ritual, since there are so many elements are familiar to me.  I do not see the possessed person, but get an impression it's a young man. I have my hand on the shoulder in front of me, her hand is on the person ahead of her, and two other people complete this line.  Someone to my right actually takes pictures of this, but I'm barely aware of this as I concentrate on the line of healing energy that is being conveyed through us.  Whoever is taking the pictures suddenly exclaims, "It's actually visible!", and shows us the picture:  It shows a line of five people, hand on the shoulder of the person ahead of each, and we are all engulfed in a silvery light that streams to the exorcist-priest who then is channeling it the "patient".