Posters Appearing in Amsterdam

You’ve got that right, MrLiberty!

In late ’21 I contracted the WuFlu and got a case of double Pneumonia on top. I do know how I got so sick, but that part is for a different time, maybe. All I can say is that at home, before the EMT picked me up, I just couldn’t seem to stop sleeping (three days straight). I couldn’t remember much of anything but I knew something was really wrong.
I had four (4) different IV drips going and the staff had alarms on the bed in case I chose to get up on my own. I didn’t know about the alarm at that time, so I grabbed the IV stands and put one foot on the floor and was immediately upbraided by a disembodied voice over some speaker.
I said, in a loud voice, “I gotta go to the can, NOW, see?” Almost immediately, a nurse appeared with a plastic bedpan. I started to laugh. She demanded, “Use it. I’ll be back.” Disregarding that folly I proceeded to make my way to the bathroom. Second verse, same as the first, with the exception sans bedpan but angered face and a demanding voice still in full display. She wanted to know just why I didn’t want to use the bedpan. Said bedpan was probably an example of China’s finest quality and was also a borrowed implement from the Pediatrics dept. I pointed to the flattened pan which by now had the appearance of a sick, blue Top Hat that had been steamrolled. I persisted that I would be fine to go do my business by myself. At this point,such a high level decision had to be determined by all kinds of authorities who needed to discuss this weighty matter, so they adjoined.
Sentries were stationed at the threshold of my cell. Their attire reminded me of their version of soldier-ettes in battle fatigues with all kinds of metallic accoutrements with appearances of delivering massive amounts of agony. Presently, I was blissfully alone again, so this time I decided to try a different tack in an effort to gain mobility to the elusive bathroom. Somewhere in the dim recesses of distant memories, I seemed to remember that I had a lone cigarette in my shirt pocket and if memory served, there was a Bic lighter in a pants pocket.
I might get their attention quite quickly and possibly impress them with my idea that I was quite serious about visiting the loo. So, I lit that baby up.
The resulting crisis and recriminations were “How dare you!!!” , “Do you know where?”. The one that made laugh uncontrollably was, “Put that thing out, make him put it out, MAKE HIM PUT IT OUT!!! , another one screamed.
There was one nurse that succeeded in clearing the cell then asked me if I thought I could make it to the bath if she helped, to which I replied, “Yes, thank you”.
What happened to that one Saint of calmness and reason, I do not know. But for the duration of my stay at that institution I’d have to say that my needs were taken a little more seriously and were addressed a bit more quickly.