The Hospital: Day Sixteen

Tuesday, July 13

Today there is a more obvious decline in food, medicines, and care.

The Argentinian mentions that their reports are not making sense when the doctors and nurses do their rounds. I laugh at this because all I hear when they come around is each patient’s personal information. These reports are not even legitimate medical updates. I am described as a *ratto*, and the Argentinian is a pervert. Today I conclude that this program tries to undermine confidence, scare people into hysteria, and create high anxiety levels.

We are out of paper towels, there is only a tiny amount of toilet paper, and no oxygen is coming through our cannulas. What happens if we run out of food and the nurses begin to give us the wrong medicines? Things are put out there for you to see so that your thinking goes negative and anxious. I plan what I might do to escape if things worsen.

9:00 am video call with Daniel. Earlier I had overheard the nurses and the receptionist discuss how to play a trick on Daniel. They had found an attendant who looked like him and they had recorded a fake conversation with me. When I got the video call, I recognized that it was not Daniel I was speaking to because the shirt was not a shirt I had seen before and because he just kept repeating the same thing over and over. The video was a looping clip. I try and tell him in code how dire my situation is. I am worried for him. If they are doing this to me, are they harming him at the house? But Daniel in the video kept repeating, ¨I am fine, how are you?¨

**Note: Later, Daniel told me that he wore a mask the whole time he made the video because he was in the hospital at the time and he said I looked sedated.

During today’s rounds, I asked the head doctor when I would be released to go home. He says depending on the oxygen level, I should be able to go home by Thursday. Then he adds something strange

¨after we clean you up. ¨ ENG

Observations: I can routinely walk to the bathroom and shower. I take time to look out the window. The view looks unreal; I cannot see a single person or car moving out there. I see only the rooftops and the far towers. The sun seems to always be in an indeterminate position. In Salon Bolio, I can now see the date and time on the bottom of my patient monitor. I also begin saving the labels off my food carton that lists the mealtime; because I do not have my memory knots, it is hard to keep track of events and times.

Sounds: It is evident to me how much this is an opp. The same plane flies in the same direction in the sky. The same ambulance siren is heard outside the window for the same length of time twice a day. The same banging sounds of heavy items falling on the floor above us are heard every evening. The sounds are recorded playbacks.

We get a new patient in bed no.163. He is a judge and has cancer. He has not recovered from COVID, but they have him here to recuperate. He is not hooked to any monitor, and I do not think they even give him the same medications we get. He is overweight and diabetic also. He hears everything that is said the same as I do. After half a day of listening to the nurses in the hallway laughing at how they circumvent Daniel’s phone calls – and the Argentinian, Torino, and the cousin plotting to use my body as the fuel for their fire along with the oxygen; the judge begins sobbing to a nurse how someone has to stop this plotting. He tells the nurse what he has heard, and she cuts him off and tells him to stop talking nonsense. He says he does not understand what is going on in this place.

I am learning to ignore all chatter; I know it is not real.

I decide to say as little as possible. I look at every event as a twist in a plot to keep me in the hospital. I put my trust in Daniel, doing everything he can to hurry and get me out.

The theme today seems to be about trials. The talk in the reception desk area is that Daniel has a lawyer, and they are both trying to get me released. There is a plan to make Daniel pay the entire $240,000.00 into an account, and then he has to agree to be in a video where he explains how his mother molested the Argentinian. I listen as they build this plot. They need to film the molestation, though. A woman from the U.S. Embassy called to find out why I was not released. The reception area is getting nervous.

A male attendant comes and says I need a shower. I go along with it because I am determined not to cause them to think I am crazy. Through their gestures and body language, I realize that this is just a way to get me out of the room – that they are going to do something to my bed, even though the female attendants make a big show like they are only changing the sheets. This attendant takes a long time talking to me. He had initially said that he did not speak English. I had even given him the nickname – No English – but suddenly, he is excellent at speaking English and says he loves the history of the Civil Rights Movement. We are in the shower area for almost an hour discussing Martin Luther King. When I got back to my bed, I immediately noticed that they had switched out the end panel of the hospital bed for one with a tiny camera lens. I laugh, and while no one is looking, I take a wet piece of paper towel and paste it over the lens.

I witness Torino putting something in the judge’s bed while asleep. He also puts something from his drawer onto the judge´s pillow. Then, when the nurse comes in, he claims that the judge was the one who tried to steal his stuff and that the judge has matches hidden in his bed.

An official-looking man comes into the room with a rolling laptop cart and two other attendants. They stand by Torino´s cousin’s bed and declare Torino´s cousin guilty of trying to set a fire in the bathroom. The cousin looks stunned and Torino tries to intervene to no avail. The cousin will be sentenced when he is released from the hospital.

The next plot involves putting something in my food to cause diarrhea. In the salons, it is customary for the ablest patient to help distribute the food. To be in a hospital room with people that might have a disease and distribute the food seemed dumb to me. I went along because I was not trying to draw too much attention to myself negatively. The Argentinian is the one who can walk well, so he helps pass out everyone’s food. However, this time Torino asks his cousin to do it. I correctly decided not to drink my coffee; I did not eat my food. I mixed up the food to make it look like I had eaten it and poured the coffee inside the food carton. The meal attendants were so tired; they did not question it when they collected the mess.

The nurses in the reception area are in total meltdown because they cannot see anything on camera from my bed. They cannot figure it out. I see today how juvenile people are acting. Their plots are all childish and haphazard. Nothing seems actually to work out. It is truly all a farce.

The doctor comes by in the afternoon and looks at the patient monitor. It is at 84; it read earlier in the day – 95. He says – your oxygen level is low. Then, when he comes by with the daily updates with the head doctor and nurses, he says I am making significant progress. It is like being in the story Alice in Wonderland.

9:00 pm: I do not want to go to sleep. I have to sleep with the sheet over me at night because the night staff goes crazy, roams the hallways, and the rooms banging on stuff and threatening to do things. For example, they pour liquid on the floor and talk about gasoline and how they will create a fire. I know it is not gasoline but water; there is no smell. Then they have sex in the office behind the reception area. Because I am trying to breathe under the sheet all night, my oxygen level is affected. I worry about the Argentinian and the others and what they might do while I am asleep. I decide to ¨glitch¨ into a scenario; it seems the safest option.

The Trial

The Argentinian, Torino, and the cousin have now begun to talk about having sex with me. They speak graphically about everything they want to do and how I need to be controlled. I stated out loud to them that I would not participate in anything. That I will not be responsible for my actions if they even try. The judge is openly weeping. I tell them I will die first. To prove it, I declare that I want to go home, or I will die right now. I laid down flat in my bed and willed my breathing to go to almost nothing. I urinated in bed. They were furious.

Then there was a loud commotion in the hallway. Daniel and the lawyer had apparently arrived to make a deal for my release. The head nurse (she had red hair and always wore a white nurse’s jacket) was excited and in charge. She called for someone to bring up the video camera and extra lights. They conducted this interview down the hallway. I continued to play dead. Then someone said that the magistrate needed to approve this action, but he needed me to be present. I felt the nurses move my bed around. I thought I could hear Daniel calling my name.

I awoke in my wet and stinking bed, alive. And it was as if nothing had even occurred. Except a nurse came in and congratulated the Argentinian on his newfound wealth. Money was being transferred into his account from Daniel. Everyone was going to get some.

My firm conclusion from this night: There were all sorts of childish and improbable plots, but nothing ever came to fruition. The reason was that this was a psychological operation that depended on the fear generated by auditory hallucinations. The hallucinations were augmented by the medication Florodon and the patient monitors. All I needed to do to stop the scenarios was to take the sheet off my head and sit up. COVID patients were the perfect experimental subjects because our access to external communications could be totally controlled.

About the language: inside the program scenarios, the languages spoken are English and Spanish. The conversations I overhear when I am awake are in Spanish.

Daniel´s notes: Lawyer SB:

7/13/21, 10:20 AM – D: <Media omitted>

7/13/21, 11:07 AM – LawyerSB: Thank you Daniel! She’ll be fine the worst has happened and she is a strong lady

7/13/21, 11:19 AM – D: <Media omitted>

7/13/21, 11:43 AM – LawyerSB: Let me touch base with the team, will let you know

7/13/21, 11:44 AM – D: Ok great, thank you

7/13/21, 2:33 PM – D: <Media omitted>

7/13/21, 4:44 PM – LawyerSB: Hi Daniel, can I call you around 5:30?

7/13/21, 4:46 PM – D: Yes, that is perfect SB. Thank you.

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