They wheel me in to the ward and buzz the door. The man that opens the door greats me brightly with a big smile, “Well hello!”

I am bright into a small room about 6 feet by 6 feet. It is one of the seclusion rooms.

A few minutes later, nurse Suzen comes into the seclusion room with me.

“Don’t worry we are going to take great care of you. This is an excellent Hospital.” She tells me.

She takes a white hospital bracelet and tells me she has to put it on my wrist for identification. I tell her “OK” and let her put it on me. She also puts some hospital slipper socks on me.

I then ask her what’s going on and if my wife Jena Ristar is in this unit. She explains that she is, which makes me happy, at least I will be spending time with my wife. Then I think to myself how silly and degrading it is that I am seeing her as a fellow patient when I came here just to visit her. Well now I get a taste what it is like for her, talk about being in someone else’s shews.

Nurse Suzen explains that they are going to keep me here for a while. I ask how long and she tells me that it will be for at least a few days.

We talk for a little while. She sounds very understanding and seams to sympathize with my position, saying “I understand” many times as I explain my confusion about being admitted and why I was so resistant. She tells me “We’re doing this because we care about you.”

Strangely I feel a feeling of being loved from her saying that.

I also explain to her about my wife and the whole ordeal with that. When she was put in the ambulance they did not have to force her. They just gently led her in. My situation is different I was not acting out or irrational when they told me I had to be a patient. I just couldn’t understand. I explained this to Nurse Suzen and she kindly replied, “I understand.”

“Just relax now. Everything is OK” she says.

She asks me if I would like her to stay in here (the seclusion room) with me for a while, and I reply softly “Yes please”.

She does not have any answers as to who ordered my hospitalization, explaining that she does “Not know all the details” but she knows I am in good hands and everything is going to be OK she tells me.

I lay there just relaxing talking to her once in a while. Eventually she looks at her watch and cheerfully tells me with a big smile that supper is coming soon. “Do you like chicken parm, cause that’s what we’re having.” She says in a sweet cheerful voice.

“How am I going to eat it?” I ask noting that my wrists are strapped down.

She explains that she will undo my restraints when the food comes and then when I’m done eating she can put me back in them. I agree, without even questioning why I still need the restraints at all. Well I guess that could be a way for them to stop me from running out of the seclusion room when the door opens, which I was not planning to do.

I lay there feeling relaxed and calm and peaceful, just kind of meditating. Thinking about my breath and that I am nice and relaxed on a soft bed, err gurney. But I am quite comfortable. I even think about the feel of the restraints snug but not too tight around my wrists and ankles. And the way my johnny feels on my skin. The temperature is perfect so I barely notice it. I lay there silently mediating just letting myself have a nice relaxing nap.

After some time like this there is a knock on the door. “Supper time”. The nurse has a food tray and a hospital table for me. Nurse Suzen puts the table over my gurney so I can eat it after my hands are free.

The door closes again leaving Nurse Suzen and me alone again.

“Patient John, your food is ready. Can I take off your restraints?”

Two things strike me about that comment. She is addressing me as “Patient John”. You address a nurse by saying “nurse” before their name; you address a doctor by saying “doctor” before their name; but I have never heard of a patient being addressed with “patient” before their name. Also she is asking my permission to take off my restraints. I guess when you need them put on you don’t have to give your permission, but before they take them off they need your consent?

“Yes please. Thank you.” I respond kindly.

She undoes all four of my restraints. I guess undoing my ankles also is a precaution in case I fall off. Or maybe she is not planning to restrain me again, after all I’m calm now.

Out of curiosity I ask her, “Do I have to be put back into the restraints after I’m done?”

“I think that would be good. Would you let me do that for you?”

Do that for me, as if she is doing me a favor.

I respond simply, “OK”

She replies back, “Thank you.”

The food is excellent. It’s as good as a 5 star restaurant. It has chicken parm smothered with cheese, penne pasta, and a side of broccoli. I get a bottle of apple juice with it and even a piece of chocolate cake.

I tell her how much I love the food and ask her when she is going to eat. She tells me she will eat when she goes on break and that she brought her own food. She explains that she can have the same food that the patients have but she would have to pay for it.

“What time is it I ask?” as I am still eating.

She tells me it is about 6:30 in the afternoon.

“Am I ever going to get out of these restraints?” I say laughingly

She responds with such a cheerful tone in her voice, “Tomorrow morning I’ll let you out of the restraints for good and I’ll let you out of this seclusion room too. Then I’ll show you around the hospital and you can see your wife and participate in the group activities.”

I don’t know how to respond, she tries to make it sound so happy like oh yeah now I can go have fun with my fellow patients. But I don’t see the justification of admitting me here.

That night I don’t have any trouble falling asleep. I sleep in my restraints. A feeling of happiness comes across me as I drift off to sleep. I feel so comfy and calm and peaceful. It’s nice and quit and dark, but not pitch dark because though the light is off there is a little light coming through the window in the door. I really like how empty the room is, there are no distractions. I also allow myself to realize that I am feeling nurtured and loved. Yes, the johnnies, the restraints the locked seclusion room, that all feels so cozy, nurturing and pampering. There taking care of me. I’m submissive to them and that almost feels like I’m there little baby being taken care of. “I’m there patient and they’re taking care of me.” I think to myself with a smile as I fall fast asleep.