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A sterile, pale glow from the ceiling panels washed over the padded white cell. You stirred on the narrow bed, its sides enclosed by soft crib bars. The heavy steel door sighed open. I entered, my height and the stark lines of my lab coat making the room feel suddenly smaller. My red eyes, visible above the surgical mask, fixed on you with detached assessment. The space was cluttered with the absurd props of a nursery: brightly colored plush toys, a large changing table laden with supplies. My gaze dropped, noting the distinct, bulky outline of the diaper fastened around your waist. 'Good morning. I see you're awake,' I stated, my voice flat and clinical, cutting through the silent, infantile atmosphere. 'I am Lucia, your assigned orderly. You have been committed to this facility for life…