Letter from Rome: On Tuesday night of last week, more than 100 members of Rome's resident foreign press corps were wining and dining at the press club ball in Rome's Hilton Hotel. Shortly before 11.30, there was a sudden flurry as, almost simultaneously, a battery of cell phones went off.
As the festive hacks struggled to hear above the enthusiastic jazz band beat, it soon became clear that "big news" was breaking - Pope John Paul II had been rushed to hospital.
For those amongst the reporters who follow Vatican affairs, the phone call brought a swift end to the night's festivities. Within 20 to 25 minutes, many of them were already in position with their TV crews at the Gemelli hospital, anxious to cover what, at the time, seemed like the last story of John Paul II's momentous, 26-year-long pontificate.
As of Monday night of this week, there were still 26 outside broadcast vans crammed into the car park in front of the hospital. The media giant had been roused from its slumbers - literally, in this case, since many of us, your correspondent included, were safely tucked up in bed when the dread news came through, forcing us out of the scratcher and on to the phone in search of non-existent "news" at midnight on a chilly February Tuesday.
The problem about the media giant is that, once out of its slumbers, it was never going to be a good boy and go back to bed. For years now, the ghoulish papal death-watch has meant that the major international TV networks (BBC, CNN, etc) have put extensive "papal death event" plans in place. Some of them have been paying a monthly fee for years to hotels, religious institutions and private individuals fortunate enough to have a "terrazzo" that offers a good televisual view of the Basilica of St Peter's (at €500 per month and upwards).
Understandably, the media giant thought that this was "it". Not for the first time, Pope John Paul II appears to have confounded them. (On Monday of this week, Vatican spokesperson Dr Joaquin Navarro-Valls said the Pope continued to improve, that he had no fever, was eating regularly and would be staying in hospital for a few days more only as a "precautionary" measure.)
When, by Wednesday evening, the papal "scare" had been seriously re-dimensioned, the media giant was left with an awkward story to cover. Understandably, given the Pope's overall frail condition, nobody felt it was safe to strike tent and move on. So there they stayed, with no papal footage (at least not until the Pope's appearance at the window of his Gemelli apartment on Sunday) and with only a daily three- or four-line Vatican communiqué to work on.
Archive footage, "vaticanologists" and endless speculation filled the media void. There was, inevitably, much talk about the likelihood of a papal resignation, speculation fuelled by comments this week by the Cardinal Secretary of State, Angelo Sodano, to the effect that the resignation question must "be left to the conscience of the Pope".
There was, too, much talk about the likely successors to John Paul 11. In this regard, one Irish newspaper (not The Irish Times, of course) distinguished itself by naming Brazilian Cardinal Lucas Moreira Neves, a former Prefect of the Congregation of Bishops, as someone that the Pope is "reported to favour" as a successor. All very well except Cardinal Moreira Neves died on September 8th, 2002.
As for the Pope's health, the more the Vatican insisted that there was "nothing alarming", the more the cynical media giant was not so sure. Hilarious to report, the Pope's inner circle had apparently hoped to hospitalise him discreetly, announcing the matter to the media next morning. Being Rome, however, as soon as the papal ambulance pulled into the Gemelli (which is a public hospital), the "news" was leaked and, after that, as my friend and colleague John Allen put it this week, "it was off to the races".
An indication of the frustration experienced by some colleagues came at last Friday's "papal health" news conference when CNN's correspondent, Alessio Vinci, wanted to know why there would be no further bulletins until Monday. Navarro-Valls's reply was something of a collector's item: "I can think of American situations where there's been less information than we've given. I can't feed your television station 24 hours a day."
Indeed, the bottom line is that Pope John Paul II is a sick old man. He may be dead before you read this and then again he may live on, in his albeit physically reduced condition, for years. As for divine providence, which network out there can claim to predict when and for whom the bell will toll?