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Three and a half weeks, 25 days.
More than forty years ago I was lost in the wilderness on a school camp. Broke both ankles and couldn’t walk. Drank water from a stream and waited.
I’d be surprised if you didn’t take legal action.
Was the water good?
Clean clear cold mountain water. Beginning of spring, snow was starting to melt. There was a settlement out of court. I’m almost 60 now and my ankles still click and hurt.
About 30 days.
Story time!
It’s not a great story unfortunately. When I was younger, and still believed in an imaginary sky daddy. I was told all throughout childhood that if you believe in him, anything is possible. My mother is a quadriplegic from a car accident when I was 14. So, I REALLY believed that she would be healed and walk again. I fasted for 30 days, praying everyday. After the 30 days I gathered my friends and we all prayed for my mom. As you can imagine, not much has changed, aside from me being an atheist now.
About 30 hours.
I had to go nil-by-mouth for 12 hours before an operation to repair a fairly serious injury and they kept pushing the surgery back and back and back. Higher priority cases were keeping the surgeon. It wasn’t like I was low priority either, but my injury was stable and not immediately life threatening.
Did I mention I’d also lost blood? That made for a force multiplier.
In the end, they admitted defeat - the surgeon had worked too long anyway - let me eat something and rescheduled my surgery for the following day.
Let me tell you, that was the best chicken I ever ate.
