Sunday, July 18
I shower early and well. My last chance to get out of this hell is on Monday. I have to make it through today. I know Daniel is working hard to get me out. They gave me exactly enough large-size hospital gowns from Salon Bolio to last until Monday. That is a good sign. I have had x-rays. I have had an examination for bacteria. I know I do not have an infection because I feel fine physically. I still have tremors from the COVID alert night. Now that I am not sleeping under a sheet all night and am getting more oxygen, I see my levels bouncing back. All of these are good signs. Most of all, I am not scared of anything this program sends my way.
I stay calm all day. I can remain relaxed enough to throw my soap wrapper away.
The entire day, I ignore the men having virtual sex behind the partition. I do not take my medicines. I do not want to be given anything to knock me out. I eat the food after I inspect it, of course.
The doctor comes in with a nurse and says he has to do an arterial blood draw. I knew this was coming and was prepared. However, the doctor is nervous (he is sweating) and cannot do it. The nurse takes over and does it, and it does not hurt like the first time. I stayed calm throughout the whole procedure.
The doctor returns in the afternoon and says he must do an arterial blood draw. I reminded him that he already did it earlier in the day.
He says no, he did not.
I point out the small bandages on both wrists.
He begins the procedure anyway but cannot do this again; he is too nervous about finding the correct spot on my wrists.
The nurse has to take over.
I wonder what is wrong with him.
9:00 pm: The men are all asleep early. They did not even have any energy to bully me on this day. I see Luis in the hallway as he is finishing his shift, but he tells the receptionist that he can stay longer. This is unusual, but I know he is doing it because he worries about what will happen tonight. I make sure my bed area is clean, that I am clean, and that my little bag of toiletries is ready. I also have a box of compression wraps that I received in Salon Tara. I had hidden a foil pill wrapper from some medication I was given in the box. Everything is sitting prepared on my chair next to my bed. I am ready to stay awake all night so nothing happens to ruin the chance to be released on Monday.
I feel I must take unexpected action. I might surprise the program because I was supposed to have taken medicine, I was supposed to be scared under the bed sheets, I was supposed to be submissive, following all of the directions, and I was supposed to be asleep.
I cannot just sit passively and let them think they will win. I get up from my bed and walk to the sliding doors, demanding to talk to my son.
You should have seen the look on the receptionist’s and the nurses’ faces! I walked out the sliding doors and down the hall to the elevators. They did not know what the hell to do. I said I wanted to go home, and I wanted to go now. I demanded the personal release form that I know is my right. I declared that I was in good health, not coughing, and strong. I said, just look at me. I have been sitting here calm all day and have had enough!
I want to talk to the doctor, and I want my personal release form. Now!
The receptionist ran back to her desk to call someone for help.
The three nurses (little Ticas) tried to grab my arms and drag me back to the room, but I went limp, and they lost their grip. I was stronger than them, and they obviously had no training to take someone down. Remember, I faked being weaker than I was, so they do not know how strong I am. I shouted that I would not move until I talked to the doctor.
The receptionist called the doctor, and he arrived. Dr. Leonardo tried to confuse me by asking if I knew what time and day it was. I laughed in his face. I said, ¨Look, doctor, I am calm and rational. I have just as much education as you do. I know it is almost 11:00 pm on Sunday, July 18th. You said you lacked space in this hospital, so why are you keeping me here? I should be home so that you have room for a sicker person. I know I have the right to sign a personal release form so I can go home. I want it, and I want it now.¨ I said all this, standing straight and strong and looking him dead in the eye.
He looked disgusted and left – he said he would look into the personal release form in parting. Next, two male attendants looking like security personnel walked up. Again, I knew everything was fake in this scene. I was correct; one of the men was a doctor and the other two were attendants. He used persuasive talking skills to talk me down; I let him because I had made my point. He had me return to the reception area, and he got on the desk laptop (who knew!) and placed a video call to Daniel so I could talk to him. It was 11:22 pm.
During the call, the nurses were in the background, talking about getting a straitjacket. One of the nurses even had a set of keys and locks in her pocket. As I finished my call with Daniel, two nurses were putting together some medicine for me. I walked back to my bed with assurances that I would be able to be released in the morning. One nurse handed me a small cup with a syrupy liquid and a pink and white capsule. I asked her what it was – she said it was to help me sleep. I did not argue. I placed the capsule under my tongue and pretended to sip the liquid as I walked back to bed. When I reached my bed, I spit the capsule out into my cup of water, and I also poured the small cup of syrup in. Whatever the capsule was, it made my tongue numb.
Tonight there was no medicine, no clicks, or beeps. The other patients had not woken during all the noise I made in the hallway. I had the very distinct feeling that the program was ending. I slept the first good sleep in a long time.
7/18/21, 11:30 PM -D: <Media omitted>