www.dramavirtual.org: THE INSOMNIA-CARE.

viernes, octubre 02, 2026

THE INSOMNIA-CARE.

THE INSOMNIA-CARE

(Or How to Survive Purgatory with High Blood Pressure)

By GAVARRE BENJAMIN

gavarreunam@gmail.com

CHARACTERS:

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO (66 years old): Our public healthcare Don Quixote of the 4:00 AM line. Dark-skinned, with a lucid but hallucinated gaze. His blood is 70% poetry and 30% pork lard.
MACARENA: Suffers from "Pathological Leisure." A woman whose entire existence is a Google Maps symptom and high-society soap opera drama.
GERARDO: The "Social Security Stallion." A body sculpted by Greek gods, but a mind designed by a hollow-brick manufacturer.
DR. GESSEL: Diagnoses based on planetary alignment, TikTok psychics, and celebrity gossip magazines.
DR. BAYER: A radical skeptic. To him, patients are just potholes on the pavement of his true calling: being a national shuffle dance champion.
NURSE T: A professional of absolute apathy. She prescribes patience on a rotating shift because the last shipment of painkillers arrived in the nineties.
ANNOYING CHILD / BUSYBODY: A generic hospital kid dragging a loud plastic toy, asking for candy, or interrupting with awkward questions.

SCENE 1: The Metaphysics of the Rubber Stamp

(The front desk of a dreary public clinic. A dim, dying neon light flickers. DON WILFRIDO REVERSO stands in front of NURSE T, who completely ignores his existence. Wilfrido turns and looks at the audience).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Do you see them? Look at them closely. All of you have been sitting here since five in the morning for the exact same reason. Some are looking for a diagnosis, others for a miracle, but most of you...

(A CHILD runs across the stage right in front of Wilfrido, dragging a plastic toy truck that makes a hideous noise: "Clac-clac-clac-clac!").

CHILD: Mister, mister, do you have a quarter for the gumball machine? My mom fell asleep on the pregnant-priority benches.

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: I don’t have a quarter, creature of the underworld, I have high triglycerides. Go ask the guy in pharmacy. (Turning back to the audience) As I was saying... most of you are just looking for a restroom that actually has toilet paper and doesn't smell like sewage. (To the nurse) Nurse T, for the love of God, cooperate. Here is my original birth certificate, the death certificate of my last gram of good cholesterol, and a sample of my faith in humanity. Can I see the doctor now?

NURSE T: (Without stopping filing her nails, in a monotone voice) Oh, Mr. Reverso... Look, your paperwork is lovely, really. But you're missing your "Validation of Existence."

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: My what? Miss, you are looking right at me. I am touching your counter. I smell like vapor rub and thermos coffee. I exist!

NURSE T: That's what you say, but the system has other data. You have to go to Window 4, in the third basement, so they can stamp a certificate proving that you are you. But a heads up: Window 4 only opens on leap years that fall on a Tuesday during a full moon. For now, sit down and wait for your blood to stop looking like mayonnaise. Next!

MACARENA: (Enters dramatically, sneezing with rehearsed elegance) Oh my god! Three sneezes in a row! It’s the total collapse of the respiratory system! Nurse, I demand a CT scan, a 3D MRI, and a ginger tea with lactose-free almond milk! I stepped on the bare bathroom tile without socks, nurse! I feel death creeping up my heels!

GERARDO: (Enters modeling, using the glass of the counter as a mirror) Hey... do you guys feel a cosmic void right here in the center of the soul? (He points to his left pectoral) I feel like my pectoralis major is going through an existential crisis. It’s not pumping with its usual pride. I feel like I lost the muscle tone of true patriotism.

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Oh, ma'am... What you have isn't pneumonia, it's an allergy to goddamn reality. And you, my king, what you need isn't a cardiologist, you just need someone to hug you and tell you that your mirror is lying. Welcome everyone to "The Insomnia-Care," the purgatory of public health. Here, time doesn't pass...

CHILD: (Crosses again, interrupting, chewing loudly on a piece of bubblegum) Mister! The janitor lady says you need to move, she’s about to mop the floor with bleach.

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Sighing) See what I mean? Here, time doesn't pass... it coagulates like grease on a cold plate.

SCENE 2: The Fluids Club

(The lab testing area. A sharp smell of isopropyl alcohol. DON WILFRIDO REVERSO, MACARENA, and GERARDO are sitting on freezing metal benches).

NURSE T: (Holding a massive syringe the size of a flute) Alright, neighborhood stallion, you're up first. And don't close your eyes on me, Gerardo, the needle is significantly smaller than your ego and twice as fast as your intellect.

GERARDO: (Trembling, staring at the ceiling, nearly fainting) It’s just... chief, the sheer sight of my own blood connects me to my human fragility. Boom! I feel like I'm deflating like a cheap party balloon. This entire package is going down.

MACARENA: (Trying not to touch the bench, speaks to Wilfrido) Tell me, good man... Why are you here? You look... dense. Like your aura is heavy.

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: My triglycerides are so high, ma'am, that if a vampire decided to bite my neck tonight, the poor guy would have a sudden cardiac arrest right on the spot. I’m a walking time bomb that tastes like fried street food.

(Suddenly, the light flickers. Wilfrido goes rigid, his eyes dilate, and he enters a mystical trance, staring into space).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (In a deep, poetic voice) I saw it... I saw it last night in the map of my delusions. In my dream, you two weren't in this filthy room. You were the stars of a National Geographic documentary on human mating rituals. You cured each other’s neuroses with wild, savage kisses, rolling around in the Egyptian cotton sheets of the X-Ray department. Gerardo...

GERARDO: (Interrupting from the blood-draw chair, voice shaking) In the X-Ray room? But the table in there is freezing, Don Reverso... what if I catch a draft?

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Without breaking the trance, pointing a finger at him) Silence, drugstore stallion! She is your mutant virus, and you are her 185-pound antibiotic of pure lean muscle. Nine times, my friends! I saw you repeat it nine times! The absolute triumph of flesh and desire over the public healthcare waiting list!

SCENE 3: The Neon Transition (Wilfrido’s Dream)

(The white hospital light abruptly transforms into an eighties neon pink and blue disco. Synthesizer sounds play. Two hospital ATTENDANTS enter, dancing rhythmically while wearing hyper-realistic masks of famous TV surgeons).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Struggling comically) Hey! Wait! Those are my lucky pants! That's my only earthly possession besides my poetry blog and my blood pressure prescription! Don't leave me in a hospital gown, for God's sake!

CHILD: (Appears out of nowhere in the dream, wearing a massive hospital gown dragging on the floor, holding a sheet of paper and a pencil) Mr. Reverso! Mr. Reverso! Sign right here to confirm we confiscated your pants, otherwise, we don't get our quarterly productivity bonus.

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Get out of the way, disruptive child! I feel my dignity and my soul escaping through the back slit of this gown!

ATTENDANT: (With a robotic voice) In Reverso’s Insomnia-Care, modesty is an unregulated luxury. No one has clothes here, only medical records. Walk with the rhythm, number 412!

GERARDO: (Appears in superhero underwear, doing push-ups and posing under the pink light) Look at me! Behold! I am public health personified! (To the audience) What are you looking at, huh? Wouldn't you love to have this body mass index instead of sitting there eating artificial butter popcorn? Boom! Pure state-funded health!

MACARENA: (Appears wearing teddy-bear fleece pajamas, strutting as if on a Paris runway) My pajamas are my barricade against institutional mediocrity! If they are going to lock me in this bunker, I will do it wrapped in 500-thread-count cotton! Illness will not take the style out of my neurosis!

SCENE 4: The Conclave of Charlatans

(On an upper level of the stage, Doctors GESSEL and BAYER drink margaritas served in laboratory beakers. Lounge music plays in the background).

DR. GESSEL: I'm telling you, Bayer, I analyzed the case of Macarena’s sneeze. It’s not an allergy, it’s not dust. It’s a coded message from the beyond. Have you noticed that the French President's wife always wears long sleeves? It’s to hide her Foreign Legion tattoos! She’s an undercover elite commando, I'd sign my life on it.

DR. BAYER: (Interrupts his drink to perform a flawless shuffle dance step across the desk) Oh please, Gessel, that’s amateur hour! What about the British royals! It is scientifically proven by my TikTok sources that the King is actually a high-definition hologram projected from a basement in New Jersey. That’s why no one is allowed to touch him. It’s pure science, quantum physics applied to the monarchy!

DR. GESSEL: (Leans over the edge of the upper floor and looks down, where Don Wilfrido is watching them from his dream) Hey... old man Reverso is watching us. He’s locked into our dream frequency. He says you bought your medical degrees on a two-for-one deal at a shady pharmacy on a rainy afternoon.

DR. BAYER: (Stops dead in his tracks, startled, adjusting his designer lab coat) Damn that old know-it-all! System whistleblower! Nurse, put a cherry-flavored placebo in his IV to shut him up once and for all! Truth is far too dangerous a commodity for patients carrying over 5,000 triglycerides! He's going to ruin my dance business!

SCENE 5: The Night of the Souls in Syrup

(The lights dim. Don Wilfrido wanders the stage with his gown open in the back, dragging an IV pole that drips bright, colorful confetti onto the floor instead of medicine).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Approaches an empty gurney and speaks tenderly to the air) Don José! What a surprise. Don't you worry about that spleen surgery, my man. The surgeon on duty whispered to me that he just watched a full fifteen-minute tutorial on YouTube and your spleen is going to look brand new, like a freshly tuned engine. Hang in there! (Turns to the audience) See? Nobody truly suffers in this place... as long as they know how to lie to themselves with enough elegance.

(He approaches a corner where the MUTE MAN sits, a static patient in a wheelchair. Wilfrido pulls an empty baby food jar out of his gown, containing a glowing LED light).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Here, my brother of silence. I give you this. I leave my essence inside for you. It’s 66 years of my life summarized: sixty-six years of waiting for the bus in the rain, writing plays that nobody reads, and eating greasy street food on the corner of sin. It's a heavy soul, I warn you—it's got a lot of trans fats—but it glows beautifully in the dark. If Dr. Bayer comes by later trying to charge you rent for the bed, just show him this jar and tell him firmly: "Reverso already paid everyone's tab tonight."

SCENE 6: The Tenth Time's the Charm

(Don Wilfrido stealthily pulls back the curtains of the emergency cubicle where Macarena and Gerardo are. In the background, a sensual, old-school romantic bolero begins to play).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Kids! We did it! Nine times! Now that is true optimization of institutional resources! You two have done more for this country’s birth rate in ten minutes of passion than the entire government cabinet in the last six years!

MACARENA: (Emerges from the curtains with messy hair and a radiant smile) Don Reverso! It’s a miracle of medical science! My chronic sneezing turned into a sigh of pure pleasure! This boy Gerardo has a CPR technique that should be a mandatory subject in every university service program!

GERARDO: (Laughing out loud, half-buttoning his shirt) Boom! I told you, chief! Don Reverso, I feel like an absolute gladiator of the pharmacopeia. Bring on those triglycerides of yours, man, I'll burn them off with pure kisses and high-intensity cardio!

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Pulls out a giant plastic toy syringe and mimics stabbing it directly into his heart) A toast to the lovebirds! May your love be exactly like diabetes: incredibly sweet, but completely incurable! As for me, I’m out of here... I'm heading straight to the year 2034, I'll wait for you there with a hot lasagna!

SCENE 7: The Awakening of Bureaucracy

(The pink neon light cuts out instantly. The cold, depressing white hospital light returns. The harsh, metallic buzz of a shift-change bell rings out).

NURSE T: (Shaking Wilfrido roughly by the shoulder. He is nodding off on the metal bench, snoring rhythmically) Wake up, wake up, Don Reverso! Shake off the sleep once and for all, you're snoring in poetic verse and scaring the few patients who still have a pulse! Here, grab your ticket, it's number 412. Move it along to Room B so the doctors on duty can completely ignore you for a couple more hours. Let's go, let's go!

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Dazed, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth) Huh? What?... What about Dr. Bayer’s shuffle dance? And the secret Foreign Legion tattoos on Melania's arms? And the 2034 lasagna?

MACARENA: (Waking up with a start, sneezing angrily) Achis!! Oh, for God's sake, what a disgusting hospital! The air conditioning smells like dampness and medical malpractice! (To Wilfrido) And you, you old lecher, stop looking at me with that knowing face, as if you’ve seen me in my teddy-bear pajamas! Have some respect for my hypochondriac lineage and my family name, please!

GERARDO: (Checking his biceps on his phone camera) Hey, Don Reverso... you talked a whole lot in your sleep, bro. You were babbling about "nine times" and a 185-pound antibiotic. What the hell are you talking about, my man? I am an absolute gym gentleman... Though, look, if you want to check out my form, I'll give you my Instagram so you can watch my leg-day reels. Drop a follow and hit like, alright?

SCENE 8: Epilogue (To the Fourth Wall)

(The general lights of the clinic begin to fade. A single spotlight focuses on DON WILFRIDO REVERSO. He stands up heavily from the bench, walking toward the apron of the stage. He sits right on the edge of the stage, letting his legs dangle into the pit, looking directly into the eyes of the audience).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (To the audience, with a knowing smile) Are you still there? Wow... you guys have some serious patience. You can tell from a mile away that you're regular users of the public healthcare system. That look of resignation isn't learned just anywhere.

(He adjusts his hospital gown, which is still a bit open in the back).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: You know, public hospitals and the theater are a lot alike: in both places you have to wait in endless lines, in both places they make you wear ridiculous outfits that crush your dignity, and at the end of the night...

CHILD: (Walks up slowly beside him, eating a chocolate lollipop) Mister... my mom says can you watch me for two minutes while she runs to the pharmacy to see if the liquid painkillers finally arrived?

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: (Looks at the child, then at the audience, smiles) Of course I can, little bird, sit right here with me. (To the audience again) As I was saying... at the end of the night, nobody in the audience really knows what the hell the play was about. But look at the bright side of bureaucracy, my friends... at least in this country, death is so slow that it demands an official ID with three valid copies before it takes you. And if you don't have an updated utility bill, it takes pity on you and grants you a six-month extension while you go get it. That's how miraculous paperwork is.

(Don Wilfrido presses his hands on his knees and stands up. He takes the child's hand).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Anyway, we're heading out. My blood is screaming for a greasy lasagna, and my pancreas already sent me a letter apologizing in advance. If you happen to bump into Dr. Bayer in the hallways, tell him for me that his secret is safe... and that the French President sends his warmest regards to the Legion.

(Don Wilfrido turns toward the back of the stage and shouts with all his might).

DON WILFRIDO REVERSO: Nurse T! Do me a favor and write it down in bold letters on my medical file: "Reverso went out to live for a while, he’ll be back when the eagle on the national crest learns to look straight ahead without blinking!"

(Don Wilfrido winks at the child, lets out a clean laugh, spins on his heels, and with surprising agility, dances off-stage performing perfect shuffle steps alongside the child, who tries his best to copy him, as the curtain falls fast).