Pot Calling The Kettle Black, Noisily

I have to have emergency surgery. After some time in the recovery ward, I am wheeled into a double-occupancy room, but there’s no one in the other bed. I wake up a little later to find the curtains between the beds drawn, and correctly assume I now have a roommate. I hear her whimpering often, but I think nothing of it, because I’m whimpering, too.

We are both checked hourly, but we have different nurses, so basically there’s someone coming in every half hour or so. Whenever my obs are being done, I can hear her huffing and sighing, the way people do when they’re trying to sleep but someone’s making too much noise. I feel a bit guilty, but what can I do about it?

During the night, I hear her groaning whenever she tries to move. I’m doing the same, so I am quite shocked when she rather curtly says, “Can you keep it down, please? You’re always moaning and groaning! I am trying to sleep here!”

I say nothing. I’m in too much pain and too drugged up to attempt a comeback or an argument.

Later that morning, I’m woken up by loud voices and ear-piercing squeals. My roommate’s family are visiting. She has two small children who are yelling and squealing and fighting with each other. They zoom around the room, pulling the curtains between our beds back and forth, playing in the wheelchairs, and often bumping into my bed, causing excruciating pain. Her husband is loud and gregarious, and neither of them make even the slightest effort to control their kids.

I’m overwhelmed and hurting and I start to cry. The nurse comes in to do my obs, takes one look at the scene, and barks at the father and kids to keep it down, that they’re in a hospital, and that there are a lot of sick people who are trying to rest. She then manipulates me into a wheelchair and says that now would be a good time to take me for a shower, to get away from the noise. As I’m being wheeled out, I hear my roommate say to her husband, “God, she can talk! She’s kept me up all night whining and carrying on!”