One of the many problems in trying to maintain a reputable sanatorium is simply the amount of people it takes. I mean one has to take into account first the doctors that provide the medical services, but also guards, cooks, janitors, receptionists, tour guides, grounds keepers, animal trainers, board members, accountants, architects, translators, engineers, electricians, pharmacists, artists, and mad scientists, not to mention the entire patient population. Costs run high and the returns are low. Once in awhile a patient becomes functional again, but then there is always the worry they will randomly amputate an innocent bystander and be sent back, adding the insult of apparently not having cured the person in the first place. And then, of course, is the problem of having the thing named after yourself. Who needs this pressure? Not me, that’s for sure. Just the other day I was assaulted by a man whose mother was sent to the sanatorium for strangling four cats and then hanging them from her clothes line. Apparently this man was very close to his mother, and judging from his demeanor, I have a suspicion that we might be seeing him very soon. Perhaps he and his mother can get adjoining cells. Anyway sorry to burden you with my miseries, but I thought I should let everyone know that it’s no cake walk. Thanks for reading, and may I never have to see your face on the other side of a padded door.