Here's something I learned while I was in the hospital: a sponge bath really isn't enough of a bath for me. I was glad to have Christi try (and really, no offense to my nurses, but none of them were "sexy fantasy nurses") to sponge me clean, but the highlight of my stay was definitely the day I was well enough to have a shower. Looking back, I don't know if I was motivated by health or my own bad odour.
Now you might think that six days in a hospital mostly spent lying down would be excruciatingly boring, but it wasn't. Being tired and being uncomfortable kept me busy enough, but having lots and lots of visitors was the real panacea. I had lots of visitors but not a whole lot of interaction; mostly I enjoyed hanging out with my eyes closed listening to people talk.
My roommates had lots of visitors as well. At times it became a bit of a shouting contest, but even when you whisper in a semi-private room there are no private conversations. Knowing so much about people I couldn't see through a curtain made me feel like I was on "The Dating Game."
But all the racket never bothered me. I guess it was the realization that there's a direct relationship between the decible level of one's visitors and the number of people who care. So it just felt like room 413 was full of patients with friends and families who cared.