Nude descending a swimming pool

Last night I dreamt I was a teenager again and that I showed up to swim practice without my suit on. I got into the pool stark naked, with the nagging feeling that something was off. When I realized the issue--that my co-ed teammates were all wearing speedos and I was completely nude--I sidestroked over to the coach to let her know. She said so long as I was comfortable I was welcome to stay for practice. I said I was perfectly comfortable; I just didn't want to make any of my teammates uncomfortable. So she told me to stay, and I did, freestroking and flipturning with the best of them, only I remained completely naked and they all stayed in their swimsuits.

At one point the coach asked me to pause my laps so she could point out an alignment issue with my shoulder. She pressed into the tight spot above my bare left breast that has been tender ever since my lung collapse. I thanked her for the adjustment and swam on. As I and my lane mates caught our breath in the shallow end, the nasty adolescent girl (who had witnessed the coach's adjustment) accused the coach of pedophilia. I said, Listen, I am a survivor of child sexual abuse--in response to which the nasty girl's eyes lit up, and she demanded, WHO? I told her, It was more than one person, and I'm not going to say who. I am also a certified rape crisis and domestic violence counselor. And I can assure you that our coach is not acting like a pedophile toward me. I guess that shut her up, because the next thing I remember is kicking off the shallow end's wall and hoping the cute guy from the boy's team noticed that I made it the whole way across the pool without coming up for air. 

Gradually the water started to go out of the pool, such that I'd swim to approximately 10 feet away from the deep end's wall only to discover the water level was several feet below where it should be. I'd kick with all my might, launching myself out of and above the water and propelling my arm into the wall.

I wanted to keep swimming even after the rest of the team had pulled themselves dripping from the pool and headed to the lockers, but when I turned to face the lane there was nothing but a few inches of water left in the pool. The coach pulled a cleaning cart up to the edge of the shallow end and informed me that I and the cute guy from the boy's team would be in charge of cleaning the locker rooms. This didn't seem to bother me; I asked a few clarifying questions, pulled my naked body from the pool, and went to survey the girl's locker room, my heart beating in my chest as I anticipated the arrival of the cute guy, who seemed equally enthusiastic to help me clean up.