I was a bit upset, and saw my dad's old truck parked outside, so I snuck out somehow, used a hidden key, and left in it. I went somewhere, an art's theater, trying to get into a show I wanted to see. But it wasn't playing there, and I began to realize that I really wasn't thinking clearly or correctly, so I went back to the hospital and checked myself back in. My dad had come back in his current bigger truck, Norton. They winched the P'up onto the bed, lashed it down next to the varmit trap, and left.
I woke up again, in the same psych ward bed, to the face of a lead physician, who's "friendly grandfather" act was completely spoiled by the phalenx of note taking med students, bored assistants, and stone faced orderlys arrayed around him. He tried to banter with me, and I snarked back, and scored some hits, because he got enraged, stormed off, and a foursome of orderlys strapped me to the bed and left me there. I fell asleep again.
Sometime later, I was wandering the floor, and I watched a doctor issue some different medication orders on some other patients, and then the actual staff guy who was going to do them (accidentally?) lay out the wrong needles on the wrong trays. I tried to point it out, and he turned on me, jabbing needles at me. I turned and ran, and got lost in the myriad of rooms and corridors.
While running, I discovered that a patients' advocate group, along with a very competent but nice medical inspector was doing an inspection/audit. They actually listened to me.
Then the whole dream happened again, only with them and me in a video room, watching it all on recordings from the security cameras, many of which even the doctors and orderlys didn't know existed.
I saw that I really was messed up, talking incoherently, when my fearful parents initially checked me in. That was disquieting.
I dozed off in the chair in the video room.
And later woke up for real.