I will need a mental hospital if I have to sleep in this freaking cardiac hospital bed tonight. Apparently, someone is afraid I'll develop bed sores, and to assuage that fear, the bed inflates, tips, grinds, growls, and otherwise produces motion sickness the likes of which I've not known in a bed room since that evening ages ago when I dipped snuff thinking I'd be cool.
I keep looking for a damned switch to cut the thing off, and I might be reduced to pulling the power cord.
There are many reasons it's a good thing I never went to Vietnam, and I've long wondered why I never relocated to Canada at the time. Nonetheless, had I gone to that war, and the Viet Cong had captured me, I'd have been their bitch within minutes of entering a tiger cage.
Maybe Wake Med is an arm of the North Vietnamese. They did win that war, you know, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to win this one.