The patients were wound up in to frenzy by the move. The
Mayfair hotels staff was watching us all very closely. You could feel a premonitory, foreboding sweep over the ward like an ominous gust of wind, anticipating a tornado. The move was handled swiftly by the staff because I think they could sense the eerie portents in the air as well; it would have been hard to ignore as it ostensibly cast its pall-shadow over everything and everyone there. The ward was charged with a voodoo sprit, and I wondered to myself what would happen here, what chaos would ensue, what tumult would show its face? Later, I would find out, I reckoned with clear conviction. Something was on the horizon, but the type of storm hadnt been revealed.
Of course, in prioritizing haste, the expedient nature of the move left certain things to the wayside. In the course of the move, the nurses decided to neglect their patients. Being a thirty cigarette a day smoker, I was to be given a nicorette gum every hour. It had been four hours since my last gum. My roommate Bob, noticing my clear signs of nicotine withdrawal asked, Wheres your nurse?
Probably reading a Cosmopolitan somewhere, in a closet maybe, I answered spitefully.
At least youre not in the
London hotels, they only have non-smoking, non-nicorette rooms, Bob reckoned.
Instead, she was eating pizza with the other nurses, around a table like it was the last supper. They slobbered there food like well-seasoned gluttons, as we patients suffered.
And just as the nurses seemed to be at there most euphoric, the paranoid man began throwing a violent tantrum, throwing all his possessions all over his room, ripping up his bed, and taking the feces he had left on the floor and started throwing it at the nurses, who all had to leave their pizza party to deal with the commotion. The rest of us clients all watched this most brilliant show of retribution unfold in front of our faces.
Karma, what a beautiful thing!
