After being diagnosed with a burst appendix in the Mountain View Hospital ER, my husband Paul was given a bed on the fourth floor with a nice view of the 95 (and a mountain, to be fair) and a roommate. I slept in the chair next to Paul's bed. The nurses, staff and doctors did a good job of caring for us. When the roommate was discharged on the morning of the fourth day, we said a fond farewell, as we'd gotten to know the couple, both retired pilots.
A few hours later, the bed was taken by a young guy who immediately started demanding his own room. I mean, let's be honest, everyone wants their own room. When they wheeled Paul into a room with someone else, our hearts sank. It's a vulnerable situation to be in, which is compounded by being worried about waking other people and using a shared bathroom. Plus, they're all about farting and pooping on 4 North. If you're farting it means the digestive system is working, and when you're pooping that often means you can go home. So, this young man is demanding his own room, saying they're asking him to fart, which he's not going to do in front of another man and also it's not hygenic.
While waiting for the word that Paul might be discharged, I got a phone call from an old friend and left so as not to disturb anyone. I was in a hallway chatting when I got a text from Paul saying he's being discharged. I came around the corner to find Paul sitting at the nurses station in his hospital gown with all our bags on the desk next to him. Apparently, young guy threw his liquid food tray on the floor while yelling about being cut from stomach to spine, not being given his own room as requested, expected to drink nothing but broth and jello and being asked to fart in front of other people. Paul decided it was time to go. Needless to say, they got his discharge paperwork together pretty quickly!