I was lucky that I had some wonderful nurses looking after me. They put up with a lot.
While my thirst was abating slightly, I was always incredibly hot. One nurse was kind enough to dig around and find a pedestal fan. I had it blowing straight on me day in and day out.
The nurse asked me if I was cold and would like the sheet pulled up. I politely said no while thinking she was nuts. Then, another nurse asked the same thing, followed by another. This happened for several days and sometimes it was even the same nurse.
The world had gone mad or so it seemed. Then, Tracey visited again and politely told me the nurses were having to look at my naked body spreadeagled all over the bed all day. I was in the Cardiac Care Unit and my bed was directly opposite the nurse’s station. It finally clicked why the nurses were so concerned about me feeling cold. Sometimes a hospital gown just doesn’t cut it.
As I continued to get better, one nurse offered to get me out of bed and give me a shower. She was new and so hadn’t been scarred by my previous displays. I was in a shower chair – basically a wheelchair that could get wet. She used a handheld shower to wash me along with a face cloth. She had virtually finished, when she asked in her soft Tibetan accent, “I need to wash your mmm mmm”. It caught me off guard and I had to get it through repeat what she had said.
It was ironic that she was concerned with my dignity when I earlier displays had proved I had none left :-) .