Sunday, June 20, 2010

My Body and I Generate Energy Like an Electric Eel when Necessary.

As a result, I have a higher necessary daily caloric intake than most people with my BMI. There is never enough food in this building for me. We get a cold breakfast at 8am. We get a hot lunch and a hot dinner at noon and 5pm, respectively, and then we get tea and coffee and cookies and toast at 10pm. Can ANY adult live on that low of a daily caloric intake? Every person in this facility with the freedom to leave the building on occassion goes out and buys more food with his or her own money.

Yes, my body generates energy in more visible quantities than most other people, but all that means around here is that I spend part of most days almost doubled over with hunger pains. I need to switch from the healthier foods I prefer to the ones with higher calories per unit volume. What I worry about most if I do that, though, is my nutritional intake.

I like the way healthy tastes... except for seafood... including freshwater. I know seafood is very healthy, but I have never liked its flavor. It's a personal quirk of mine. I used to waver on amphibious creatures like gecko, duck, or alligator that can sometimes live in or on water. I now take all amphibious creatures on a recipe by recipe basis.

If they pretend they cannot feed me enough untainted foodstuffs while in this building to constitute humane treatment due to any sort of lack of finances, they will learn that they do not want to talk money with me. How much money has the government of the UK spent on this campaign of terror against its own people already? How much money have they spent on personal persecution against me alone so far? I know they have the bookkeeping and deposit slips to prove their own culpability. Tell them not to test my abilities to bring down a terror regime with basic math.

A papertrail is called a trail for a reason. Clearly, the government around here cannot be trusted with its own people's taxes. Look where they actually spend them. Do they spend money on growing their own economy? Or do they spend money putting torture chips into people's ear canals in order to make and keep them podpeople? Somebody needs to break this government of its abilities and public permission to do nothing but oppress, harm, and torture its own population... not to mention its enslaved political hostages like myself.

Last night while pretending to be a medical facility, the night nurses refused to call for a doctor for me while I was enduring emergency-level pain. Wait, I thought we were in a medical facility; doesn't that mean there needs to be at least one doctor here at all times? They confirmed for all people able to witness that all patients here are actively denied ALL ACTUAL medical attention. When I confronted a member of the night staff myself this morning about why no doctor was sent for at all during the night, he told me in an angry voice something along the lines of (We all know I paraphrase but keep concepts correct.), "You lived so far without a doctor."

Huh, "Paul," thanks for the verbal confirmation that I am in a British government run torture facility operated and supervised by the Secret Service (domestic). We all knew that one already, but it was nice to finally see somebody acknowledge it to my face. I hope his stupidity at making me angry made its way into some sort of official report... with or without all of its accurate context.


My previously described mail for Mr. Jasper Fforde c/o his publishers in London will be in the outgoing mail from this building tomorrow morning. They pick up the mail here almost first thing. It is usually out the door by 8:30 AM. I have another batch of mail in the works. If I get enough dancing in, I should be able to have enough mental concentration afterwards in one place to also get an envelope in the mail to my dear, old friend in London named Mr. Samuel Shi c/o his magazine on Gough Square.

I met Samuel in a bar named Specs while he was in San Francisco in late 2006 for his dear old poet friend Sargon's funeral. Though very popular among Middle Eastern cultural figures in the English-speaking world, when I met him, he considered himself a better translator than poet or writer. The mission of Banipal Magazine, which he founded himself, was to create a cultural understanding between the Middle East and the rest of the world. From what I can tell, he has been very busy lately doing what he does best in this world.

As I said, I hope to have an envelope ready for him, too, to go out tomorrow morning. Otherwise, I will tell all of you when it does go out. With any luck, I will be allowed to deliver it in person once it is finished. Let's hope that a humane-enough, if not logical-enough, gesture by the current faschist, terrorist regime manifests itself as soon as possible and allows me out the door and into the arms of my home, San Francisco. So much healing needs to happen in this world, not just in me.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Still Compulsively Honest and Still Prone to Understatement: The Previous Post Continued -- They Somehow Cut me Off.

The behaviors of the nursing staff after all of this happened yesterday has been even more sad and pathetic than usual. They tried to make an open display that once on one day during my illegal incarceration here there was actually enough food for me to eat for one day. Not only was their effort to look like a nursing staff at all a sign of their complete incompetence, but their act of providing food was even incompetent in and of itself. It released more truth about the operating of this facility than they wanted made international knowledge.

The behaviors of fake patients in here with me has been mixed. Some of the fake patients have been coming around to just doing what is right instead of what they are controlled into doing. One has just decided to verbally abuse me, infiltrate my personal space supposedly casually around my lady parts, and insult me by pretending she doesn't do any of it. She calls herself Lucy. Another fake lady patient in here pretends that choosing foods to eat in front of me can turn me into either a lesbian or a ranting lunatic. I am worth so much more than half-backsided insults like these from anyone.

The behaviors of my fellow inmates has stayed absolutely spectacular.

After my plea to the local police for physical safety and for, at least, the human rights guaranteed to a human in police custody, there have been little signs of the police in here. This is an obvious sign that the local police are being denied even the chance to stick their heads in the door here in order to determine of anything needs to be done about preventing any public unrest. I wonder whose bad decision that one was.

Please, tell my dad that I asked the heads of Tesco to send my father's day card to him for me. Please also tell my mom to stop worrying so much. I WILL find my way back home to the US as soon as possible. I know she is worried about my physical safety while locked in here.

I chose not to sleep last night except for a 1.5 hours nap in a chair in the common area. If you were raped every time you slept in front of a television or even more violently when you would sleep in the bed they enforce that you sleep in, you would choose not to sleep as well. They have a tendency to come by and shut off the TVs before harming me when I sleep in front of them hoping for safety.


I am about to finish an envelope of mail to a Welsh author I have been trying to read while in here. If the complete barrage of tortures in here had not already almost completely stunted what I have left as an attention span, I might have already finished his second book in his Nursery Crime Division series by now. In the envelope with Mr. Jasper Fforde's letter, I am also including some mail for Mos Def, U2, Eddie Izzard, Liam Neeson, and the Fiennes siblings that I am asking him kindly to deliver for me. I trust that my mail always goes through to where it belongs.


Now, in recap, the three BIGGEST tortures and atrocities committed against my person while here in this clearly mislabeled torture facility still parading as a medical facility from slightly less evil to most evil:

1.) Pinpoint radiation torture that follows me through all parts of this building and walled in yard and that they particularly crank up when I do effective things to solve ANY world problems, especially my own internationally illegal incarceration here
2.) Rape and violent rape whenever I sleep
3.) Holding me down and sticking chemicals into my body with needles inserted into my beautiful backside in order to punish me for standing up for myself every time they push me into defending myself

The effects of their forced injections into me include these five things:
a.) Removal of the ability of my mind to think clearly
b.) If I even have the ability to form a thought, the injections remove my ability to articulate the thought into any form of human expression.
c.) Body contortions into inhuman shapes due to involuntary muscle contractions
d.) Demolition of my metabolism that leaves me with no appetite for food and a circulation so low that my ankles swell
e.) Disconnection between me and the energies of the natural world

Gladly, they have slowed down their abilities to locate enough cajones to inflict their non-medically used prescription-level injections on me as often as usual as of late.

One More Day, So Many More Atrocities Committed Against Me... Why Can't They at least Find New Ones to Use?

I caught wiff while here in this facility yesterday that the local medical community formed a Tribunal to make a decision of some sort about how to pretend to justify being able to physically detain me in this more than obvious torture facility for a longer period of time. They decided, apparently, that they should be allowed an extra sixty days of illegally incarcerating me while committing human rights atrocities against me in order to make a decision eventually on how to justify it all. That is, they want another sixty days to cause me (through their barrage of clearly defined tortures while simultaneously denying me all medical care) to have a complete medical breakdown in order to pretend they have a legal reason to keep me in a medical facility.

They must have filled the "Green Room" with medical professionals in order to accomplish this. Why didn't they allow me in to speak to me about my own health? I wasn't even supposed to be allowed to know that any of it ever happened. As a better questions, if enough actual psychiatrists were here to form a Tribunal at all, why didn't they just medically treat me? They were here in the building, anyway.

Oh, and what was their public justification for enforcing that I spend sixty more days in this literal torture facility? They documented the reason for requiring sixty more days of my illegal incarceration here as needing more time to justify AT ALL detaining me under a Section 3 of the Mental Health Act of 1983, and they justified needing more time on the fact they know so little about my (lack of) need for mental health care right now. Huh... But they were the ones refusing to allow any psychiatrist to assess me and the ones who denied me any ability to speak at the Tribunal myself.

I think the local medical community INVOLVED in the Tribunal have just deemed all of their conclusions completely non-binding, deemed themselves as NO authority on any of these topics, and deemed themselves as non-credible on all legal topics particularly those specialized in the medical field. All they had to do was their real jobs. Why would they even pretend that anyone would have ever fallen for it? I hope we have all of their names, addressed, and credentials.

Oddly, I have only granted them any permission to contact my "nearest relative" whom they themselves say is my mother, Mrs. Dinadar Albon Varilek, if I am present for all of their phone calls with her. This was, of course, in order to prevent any more government or medical officials from lying to her ever again. There has been a long history of corrupt government employees of various nations traumatizing my family by lying to them outright. I granted them such limited permission to contact my mom in a legal document of my own creation.

Speaking of which, I still just need one document signed by any psychiatrist involved in this situation in order to travel home to San Francisco. Signing this one document would only involve a psychiatrist's ability to assess whether or not I am capable of sitting in a chair with my seatbelt on. I write most of my legal documents, you see. This one says this:

I _[Insert name of MD here.]_ of _[Insert name of hospital or practice associated with the establish psychiatric doctor here.]_ as a medical doctor specialized in psychaitry do hereby deem through my area of professional expertise that the mental health of Tanya Hedelisa Albon Varilek a.k.a. Squid Bedlam Varilekova as fit to travel by airplane as soon as possible to her home city of San Francisco, California, United States of America.

Printed Name:

Signature of Witness:
Printed Name:

I have given a few versions of the document detailed above to my medical malpractice lawyer here and to the staff of this facility. My lawyer is doing everything he can fathom to fix my detention here, and he is acting on these things as immediately as possible. He is a treasure this way.

The behaviors of the nursing staff after all of this

It was when the Maps of the Area Showed up Near this Computer for Anyone to Take...

... that it became so clear that my inmates in this torture facility are still without enough truth and reality to know why I am still locked in here at all. They actually think nobody knows where I am to be able to show up and help me. Clearly, they DO have enough reality to know how much help we need in here, though. To make them at least a little happier, I will explicitly tell you that I am here and still denied the ability to reach San Francisco to finally be able to heal...

Windsor House +44 0151 250 5300
40 Upper Parliament Street, Liverpool, L8 7LF

It shouldn't take a thalassocracy to get me to safety, but we have reached the point where I have agreed to "whatever immediate force necessary" myself to end my internationally criminal incarceration here. I am sure that the British people that include the nursing staff here would welcome the opportunity to no longer be able to choose to break international laws through their own conscious. More importantly, I am sure that the British people that include my inmates (also known as, the other patients denied medical care here) would welcome no longer feeling it is necessary to throw their own bodies between me and the source of the radiation torture to bring me at least what little physical safety they can give me by choice themselves in here. I have finally stopped announcing where the radiation comes from to stop them from doing that.

I used to have an inmate in here named Terry. I think he knows where concrete objects containing the radiation torture equipment that is outside of this facility, at least, are located. He might have been asked to build them himself before he was put in here. Terry is a great place to start on where to look for some of the equipment out there, anyway.

I am working on some more snail-mail. It just takes so much more concentration, now, than it used to for me to get these things done. And, I am CONSTANTLY hungry from how much my body has to heal itself these days on its own while I am in here. (Look at that! I am now being threatened by a very fake nurse who wants this computer immediately shut off.)

Thursday, June 17, 2010

The Laundry List of Stolen Objects

Beyond just the in-coming mail and packages that were sent from all other people than my own mother (And, it seems the US government has been terrorizing her again over her ability to send me mail at all. She called me asking me to come home to help take care of her, again, yesterday.), belongings stolen from me since arriving here in this torture facility include but are not limited to many of my panties, versions of my Power of Attorney and Will documentation, my dignity, my patience with torturers, and the carved shell necklace my mom bought for me on one of her trips to the island in Hawaii where her dad, Mr. Claudio "Duke Duke" Albon, was born. Has anyone out there seen my necklace? It looks a lot like this...

Huh, I just tried to plug in my flash drive to be able to open up some files to finish writing some of my projects here on this computer. I'm all good with this whole English-laguage-as-work-of-art thing. Wow! I already knew that they are refusing to allow me to access the CD-ROM drive. Look at that, I also cannot access any drives with Microsoft Word including not being allowed to save any files anywhere... even onto my own personal flash drive. I wonder why they pretend that we are able to use Microsoft Office on this machine at all, then.

Hey, look at that! They are now having the most infantile reactions imaginable to my doing anything! They are taking away my ability to change the wallpaper on this OS and to change the names of shortcuts already sitting on the desktop. They are already in shaking fear of all of me from the way I react when angered by them on purpose to the hairs that fall off of my head on their own.

Their policy of "Stop her from doing anything! And then let's physically harm her because we already chose to force her into boredom!" makes about as much sense, doesn't it, as "Let's choose her as our victim and then make public pleas for help after she stands up out of self-defense!"? Or, even more logically-lacking, "Let's paint ourselves into a corner of completely ethical vacuousness and then pretend it is our victim in every sense of the word that is the one actually stuck in some sort of logical trap!" Don't even let me begin with, "This time, let's OPENLY lie about an innocent woman continuously and try to blame her for the fact our admittedly own lies are harming as many people as we are capable of harming every time we utter one." We already know that it is the corrupt, terrorist, fascist authorities that have put me in this position where no matter what I do it will help solve the real problem, and that is why they fear EVERYTHING I do. We do know now what sort of people fear the benevolent.

The latest policy of stupidity I have found is "Let's bludgeon her with constant aggravation and then complain our feeling get hurt when she tells us to stop." It falls into the same line as "Let's harm her, harm her, and then harm her again and then punish her for asking reliable people for help to stop us from intentionally and constantly harming her." Clearly, the overlying theme seems to be... "Let's deny her all medical care in order to pretend we are physically detaining her in a torture facility to make her well." Excuse me? Did the British Secret Service (domestic) think nobody would ever notice that they are redefining the low end of the word IDIOT by doing any of this?

I already told them that the only way to stop me from yelling at them constantly to stop, stop, STOP is by actually stopping. Nobody needs their human rights infractions, and the longer I am in the country the more they insist on committing. Somebody needs to hit this Prime Minister with a fish and yell at him to think.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I just Sent this Message to the Liverpool Police Authority.

From: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Varilek a.k.a. Squid Bedlam Varilekova
Today: 16Jun2010
Phone: 001.415.577.1249
DOB: October 12th, 1977

"I would like to address this message to Staff Sergeant #1281 at the Wavertree police station. Hello, I was just under your humane detention from May 18th to May 19th, 2010 here in Liverpool. I am now kept under completely inhumane conditions at the Windsor House In-Patient Facility where I was dropped off by your officers that Wednesday. Technically, I should have been allowed to walk out of the doors today, but they are pretending that they do something other than commit international crime in this building concerning me. I do not know how to contact any international authorities as directly as I can contact you and all of your peacekeeping expertise. That is, they finally allowed me to utilize the internet again last night, so now I am contacting you as quickly as I could get my brain to concentrate on the idea after all that has been done to me in here. Please, if there is any way for me to be transfered to your care until a suitable transportation to my home of San Francisco can be arranged, I would greatly appreciate it. I know you have discretion to act on behalf of the wellfare of the city and community. At the bare minimum, if you could stop in to check on me here at 40 Upper Parliament Street, I and all of the other actual medical patients in here being denied all medical care would be quite relieved. Please take care. I will be wonderful to hear from you again."

I am about to write to them again with a few extra details...

The Updates


I have dropped off envelopes recently at the reception desk here for Mr. Richard Branson c/o the Virgin Media address in Liverpool on the Albert Dock, Mr. Gerard Depardiue c/o the French Embassy in London, Mr. Paul McCartney c/o the Cavern Club here in Liverpool, and Mr. Terry Leahy c/o Tesco's customer service address in Cheshunt. Sadly, I have much more mail to write, still. This should have been over so long ago.


I finally joined the wikipedia editing volunteers, so I can add facts about myself and others in their public truth forums under the headings of "Squid Notes." Someone in there named "The Rambling Man" is trying to block all of my methods of communicating the truth through wikipedia on topics of Mr. Johnny Depp and how we became married, President Ahmedinejad and how he supports me effectively, and Professor Stephen Hawking and how his levels of expertise are in such demand to explain so much right now... among other things.

If the other benevolent nerds of this planet could take care of making sure my truth gets out to educate and inform the public in as many methods as possible, particularly my own doings, I would greatly appreciate it. They do not even give me access to my own email accounts in here... least of all some site like Thank you for all of the help saving the world, Nerds. Most of us wanted to be a superhero at some point; now we all get to be. Just keep better track of your alter egos than I did. Trust me on that one.

The International Organization on Migration

There is a shiny treasure in their Liverpool office who goes by the name of Lydia. I wonder if they told her it is the name of my homemade Cabbage Patch Kid doll I had as a kid in Duluth, MN, USA. She does look a lot like Lydia Faye all grown up... and human. All she needs from me is some sort of verification that the medical community here in the UK has deemed me "fit to travel" in the company of an actual psychiatrist from here in the UK to be able to put the two of us, me and the lucky chaperoning psychiatrist (Really, we would be able to discuss things like methods for bringing healing to mental health patients! What actual psychiatrist would not want to consult me about that?), on a flight straight from HRW to SFO as soon as possible. Flight number VS019 is listed as leaving every day except for Sunday whenever I look it up.

Jackson and Canter Solicitors LLP

These are my solicitors here in Liverpool. They have taken me in on a Legal Aid level due to what little of my own money the fascist, terrorist government in this country actually allows me to control. They are benevolent that way, if not slowly becoming more and more controlled by the evil government forces around here. If anyone can give them help maintaining their abilities to continue independently doing good legal work in this country, I would greatly appreciate it. They are my medical malpractice representatives laboring as best they can to remove me from this facility as soon as possible.

The SAVE-THE-BRITS Method of Getting me out of this Torture Facility

Plan A for me has always been the following... Independent symbols of British culture from sports figures and intellectuals to (literal) rock stars and actors (and the occassional Irish or other Commonwealth citizen) show up to bring me and all of my holy-relic-level belongings out of the front door and to a helicopter to bring me to Ireland. From Ireland, who can be trusted blindly to help keep the peace around here as much as possible especially on topics of me, I will take a flight straight to San Francisco International Airport. San Francisco, particularly my home neighborhood of North Beach, will then be able to positively identify me on behalf of all of humanity. I hear Chicago needs some healing these days.

I have a lot to do in the States, but I also know the world can wait barely any longer for me and my beloveds to travel the world doing what we do best; even if, it has never been for a living. We know you wait for us all to go forth being beautiful people with and along beside you all finally.

On the short-term, I still need to get out of this still-active torture facility.

Huh, I'm still not dead. I'm even still quite myself. They have still only failed.

... Besides, I am such an obstinate person when I make a decision; if I had ever chosen to be dead, I would be by now.

Please note: I can get this blogpost into the public eye. However, they will not allow me to look at my own blog nor any comments after I do so. As per usual, this is still a mostly outgoing truth flow. It is so hard to get any information to me at all. This is all still based on what harms I am still being forced to live through.

Even while twitching on the floor of the hallway of this, my dedicated torture facility in the UK, where they left me after physically dragging me back in from the lobby and while I was having a PTSD breakdown shortly thereafter while a member of the nursing staff stood over me yelling at me, I still came back from converting into energy form. My door to Nirvana was shut because people (most likely subconsciously,... but possibly otherwise) reached out to keep me here. That night was that of approximately May 21st or 22nd, 2010. They locked me in here in this torture facility in plain sight on false (better known as QUACKED) medical pretenses on May 19th, 2010.

My visiting hours: 2 - 4 PM and 6 - 8 PM, daily

The address of this (Please pardon my signature understatement on this next phrase.) torture facility:
The Windsor House In-Patient Mental Health Facility
40 Upper Parliament Street
L8 7LF
United Kingdom

A few of my fellow inmates believe the only reason no help has yet arrived to remove me from this facility and forcibly take me away from the harms of this terrorist, fascist government is because my friends don't know how to find the building. They don't even know completely who I really am in this world, but they know I am an only good person that is tortured here. My actual inmates do not understand why no one has come to help me yet. It is so hard for me to explain to them. So little truth reaches us in here.

Please do not send any gifts or packages to this address. The nursing staff steals all things, including the flowers you send me, and refuses to acknowledge to my face that any of your gifts have ever existed in the first place. I do receive the occassional card from my mom, Mrs. Dinadar Albon Varilek, though. Funny, the nursing staff also refuses to acknowledge that I have ever existed in their presence as a human due my human rights or even any human respect at all. Please use all of those resources you once thought might come to me to fix this real problem instead. We need to break this government from being able to enforce human suffering on myself and its population any longer.

We need to end the human suffering first... There is more here than just my own. Please talk things out to prevent it from ever happening again AFTER you break them from constantly torturing me here.

Most distressingly, the British Secret Service (domestic) still insists completely that this is a medical facility that is keeping me confined instead of the truth that I am this government's completely innocent torture victim and political prisoner. It is such an insult to me that they refuse to even lie to me convincingly and logically-soundly at all. We know that this is my dedicated torture facility from them. We know they are oppressing every person near me to the full extent they can execute just to be able to continue denying me all human rights. We know that as long as they insist on pretending that this could ever be an even slightly convincing facade of a medical process, they are still bound by medical laws, as well... not just international treatises and conclusions such as the Geneva Conventions.

The nursing staff enjoys (Please, pardon that understatement.) holding me down and injecting me with a chemical cocktail of what contents they refuse to tell me. The night time nursing staff includes my rapists. There are many other forms of torture here for me and my inmates as well.

We know I have only been consulted by one psychiatrist on one occasssion here. It was a "Dr. Mian" on June 9th, 2010. (My beloved husband's 47th birthday.) Her conclusion was to stop torturing me and send me back to San Francisco as soon as possible. Ever since and even completely before, all other actual medical professionals have been kept completely away from being able to come ANYwhere near me with ANY form of ANY treatment at all.

Thusly, there is no way for them to pretend they have had any way to diagnose me of anything while constantly denying me any and all ACTUAL medical care while physically keeping and deeply harming me here. Best, after more than two independent medical professionals including at least one lady psychaitrist deemed me incompetent to make my own medical decisions in order to confine and detain me under Section 2 of the Mental Health Act of 1983, they have detained me here with the only intent of physically and mentally harming me as much as possible. Even more powerfully, their outright refusal to give me ANY medical care (Has anybody heard my cough lately?) deems them completely incapable of EVER having created any prescription for me. Most amazingly, they have no grounds for detaining me here for treatment (also known as, Section 3 of the Mental Health Act of 1983) for UP TO six months due to refusing to allow any medical professionals to assess me other that the ONE who said I should go home to San Francisco as soon as possible.

They like to pretend that my knowing more than they do is a symptom of something other than their own culpability. Who treats ANY human this way?... and pretends they are innocent of any responsibilty for the war crimes they carried out themselves afterwards?

The injections are only one (1) of the many (##) forms of torture used on me in this facility. They cause five major effects on my person:
1.) They take away my ability to think clearly at all about anything.
2.) Even if I could form an idea, the injections take away any and all abilities I normally have to articulate that idea into any form of human expression.
3.) They cause involuntary muscle reactions that contort my body into inhumane shapes.
4.) They reduce my metablolism to such a low degree that my appetite almost disappears, that my muscle mass atrofies, and that my ankles swell from the low level of circulation.
5.) The injections also prevent my complete connection with the energies that flow naturally through this world.

Again, their insistence on holding me down and sticking needles in my backside while I am doing nothing but being my own peaceful, educational, non-violent, humanity-conscious, genius self is a sure sign they just get a high off of harming me. Oh, it has come very close to ending who I really am in this world a few times now. Surrounding me with the worthlessness that stands for the very bottom of what humanity is capable of (also known as the nursing staff here) while abandoning me without any hope for help to leave this facility nor country due to the high level of corruptness in this terrorist, fascist regime of a farce of a government has actually almost made me give up on humanity (including myself) being worth helping any more. They have come close with that one a few times.

Just because their tortures have NOT yet caused me any PERMANENT harm, it does not make it okay to continue torturing me here. It hurts like hell to heal from these things, and they make it a point of denying me enough food to normally eat everyday anyway... whenever the government is able to bludgeoningly enforce that one. My inmates, the other ACTUAL medical patients being denied ALL medical care here, are such heroes to me in here. We are doing everything we can to take care of each other. The "nursing" staff is always in the way of any of our healing.