The man down the hall from me screams long, guttering, spinal tap screams.

I press the call button until Nurse Candace answers with a chilly, "Yes?"

"The man in 627 seems to be in pain," I say, sure that Patient X wears  a paper gown like mine that flaps open in the back, in a room like mine, in the same town, in a state that shows little mercy, in a nation that isn’t known for fine health care.

"Just ignore him," she says before breaking the connection.

Later,…