At the hospital, my father also found God in the water fountain located so very conveniently opposite his room. Told by his
doctors to limit fluids, and with no water pitcher allowed at the bedside, all he thought about, of course, was water; how
to get some or how to dupe some innocent visitor to get it for him. “Well,” Dad grumbled, “if they don't want me to drink
any water, why did they put me in a room right next to a fountain?”