Amusing yourself in a hospital

I can’t believe how satisfying fucking with the robot is.

Robots built to obey Isaac Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics from I ROBOT.

A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

Last Wednesday I was admitted to Cornell Hospital Fter a blood test, since my liver markers were suggesting that my body had finallt figured out that my new liver was not the old one and starting rejection. The transplant team came to my river view seventh floor room and said that rejection was treatable, but would require a week-long stay. I had little choice but to agree.

Thankfully I had my iPad and charger, but the hours in a room were wearying and I began perambulations through the seventh floor. The nurses weren’t happy with my leaving the ward, but its confines were not ideal for stretching my legs. I didn’t run into many humans and those were mostly nurses and staff not interested in any interaction with patients. I did run into robots. they were deep into their mission. I said hello and stop. they didn’t react to voice commands, so deeply on a mission.

I ignored them on the long lonely corridors, until I found a food delivery robot stymied by a loose door. I asked if it needed any help. no response. Every time it reversed the door trapped it again. After the thrid attempt I held open the door. It veered to the right to avoid hitting me, but a sublimal mean streak rose from the past and having been bullied as a young boy I decided it was time to take coup on the robot.

The perfect victim.

I scotchjumped a series of checkmates, but lost interest.

And I felt bad.

Bullying wasn’t fun.
I apologized to the robot. It didn’t care. It was a robot. It was on a mission.

I was only on a walk.