As I walked down the corridors I remember the sticky feeling on the floor. I could hear the socks peeling up off the heathered white tiles. I remember the man who threw up on himself and then dropped to the floor to do push-ups. I remember the woman I was rooming with who started talking to the ghosts at five a.m. I remember the old woman, white and frail with skin that hung slightly from her muscles, who was terrified that she would be kicked out of her house and ostracized by her daughter’s husband. She was just crying. She was inconsolable for days and then she was moved to a different ward and I’ve never heard of her since.
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After I received the G-J tube I spent about a month in the hospital. I was released, but returned a week later for dehydration. The next stay also lasted a month. I was out of the hospital for about four months and was then readmitted that January. When I was released the first week of February I thought my hospital stays were over, but sadly I was once again admitted about a week later. As I mentioned above I was heart broken and didn't want to see another hospital room, but I reluctantly agreed to the admission.