"She really knows how to move under the water."

The announcer's voice echoed throughout the room and I watched in a stunned silence. The Olympic games were on the television, and a group of women was warming up for the 100 meter butterfly competition. What was so stunning about this otherwise boring warmup was the woman that the announcer referred to. Stunning because she was stumpy.

That is, she was a basketcase. OK, wrong word. She was an amputee--no arms, no legs--and she was bouncing gracefully around at the bottom of the pool, the nubs of her knees dusting the floor, her head completely submerged.

I disagreed with the announcer. It didn't really looked like she knew how to move well at all, let alone underwater.

But she was an Olympian.

Her face looked at the camera, and she smiled and waved a knobby arm. Her toothy grin filled the screen. I wondered if she was running out of air.

Then her trainer pulled her out of the water by her stomach and fitted her with a pair of prothetic legs and arms as she readied for the race and potential glory.

This is when I woke up, and the most beautiful dream I have ever had came to an end.