No Sharing

6 Jun

It’s possible that this may come as a shock to you, but I’m a total diva.  As a matter of fact, Muffy and I like to bask in our diva-ness.  One lovely Saturday, we were enjoying brunch at one of our favorite spots.  Muffy’s mom joined us for a latte and we were enjoying one of the first weekends of the year.  Muffy made an observation: she looked at the chair that was holding all our handbags (because we divas do not put our handbags on the floor) and said, “There’s over a $1000 worth of handbags on that chair.”  It was true.  What made the situation even more fantastic is that we were all dropping off mink coats for summer storage right after brunch.  Divas, I tell you.

When I travel, I do it in style.  I do not backpack, I do not stay in hostels, nor do I book at the Holiday Inn.  The accomodations have to be at least 3 stars, and that’s freaking stretching it-I’m used to being spoiled by hotel staff.  And mama likes the room service.  You can imagine my chagrin when I was admitted to the hospital and wheeled into my room.  I nearly had a freaking heart attack when I realized they wanted me to share a room.  What??  Are you kidding me??  Me?  Share a room?  I don’t think so.

On the other side of the curtain was an older woman who was hacking up one of her lungs.  She’d have a terrible coughing fit, and then pass out and snore for an extended period of time.  No.  I was not going to share.  So there I am, dying from blood poisoning, and I’m demanding my own room.  I sent my mother to go and talk to the nurse to see what it was going to take to get my own room.  My mother thought my request was ridiculous.  I could overhear the conversation with the nurse as they were in the doorway of the room.  The nurse asked my mother why I wanted my own room, and my mom (being so supportive and helpful) responded, “Because she’s picky.”  Way to plea my case.  The nurse came in to talk to me and I gave her a whole song and dance about how I was a really light sleeper and blah, blah, blah.

Right around this time Lady Hacker on the other side of the curtain buzzed the nurse.  The nurse excused herself for a moment and went to the other side of the curtain.  Lady Hacker needed to use the bathroom.  No problem, they just wheeled her little commode over.  “Oh God,” I thought to myself.  “Please, please, God, please don’t let me hear her have to poop.  Only #1.  Only #1.”  I could hear her position herself on the commode, as she was literally less than 2 feet from me.  And then she started peeing, and it was like the happiest moment of her life because she kept saying, “Ahhhh.”  Who taught that woman manners??

My mom and I just exchanged looks and then she said, “Don’t worry.  You’ll get your own room.”

Two hours later Lady Hacker and I parted ways and I was taken to my own room.  Sure the air conditioning leaked all over the floor, I had to request more soap for the bathroom 8 times (it took them 12 hours to fix it), and the sink drained slowly, but at least it was mine.  I totally thought the nurse had come through for me and just pulled some strings.  Not so much.  I was so sick that I was in one of the isolation rooms.  Everyone that came in had to wear gowns and gloves.  It was hot.

9 Responses to “No Sharing”

  1. Desiree June 6, 2008 at 3:07 pm #

    Okay, I know I shouldn’t be laughing here, but I can’t help it. By far, this was the most memorable line:

    “Oh God,” I thought to myself. “Please, please, God, please don’t let me hear her have to poop. Only #1. Only #1.”


    True story. I swear. I have no idea what I would have done if she had actually pooped. I think it would have taken me over the edge. -CS

  2. Amadeo June 6, 2008 at 3:52 pm #

    If they had read your blog they may have kept you in quarantine. Or just disinfected you totally. Think of it this way…perhaps you left the hacker some special germs to enjoy later.

    I don’t think there’s a way to completely disenfect me. Such advance medical technology has not yet been created/discovered.

    Perhaps she’s in isolation now-enjoying some privacy when she has to pee. -CS

  3. Brandi June 6, 2008 at 4:12 pm #

    Nothing says fun like listening to your hospital roomie use the bathroom. GROSS!
    That is DEF another reason to be glad to be home!

    Everyone should experience that one time. -CS

  4. the princess June 6, 2008 at 6:24 pm #

    i’m so glad you are back in your regular diva world now. i remember when i had my 1st child i had to share a room and i was pissed cause all her guests had to pass me to get to her. not fun

    that was funny girl, so I clickety clicked

    That’s such bull shizzle that you had to share when you had your baby. Utter crap. Especially under those circumstances, you should have had your own stinking room. -CS

  5. pamajama June 6, 2008 at 7:17 pm #

    OMG — your description of the woman peeing and vocalizing at the same time is priceless. It’s a wonder God did not take you, just to spice up heaven. We are all so very fortunate that Catherinette is back!

    It was so horrifying. I’m sure I’ll have nightmares for years to come. -CS

  6. Jezebel June 6, 2008 at 7:40 pm #

    I honestly thought this was just a really good made-up story was going to praise you on your creativity when I caught a glimpse of your previous post just before writing this! I’ll have to go read that post now!

    In any case, I hope you’re feeling better and recovering from the trauma of having to share a room. I understand the whole diva thing – my idea of roughing it means getting a room at the Ritz Carlton. 😉

    The story is 100% true. Ask my mom, she’ll tell you. -CS

  7. courtney June 6, 2008 at 11:12 pm #

    oh how i’ve missed you.

    welcome back to the land of the living…


    It’s so nice to be back! -CS

  8. pistols at dawn June 7, 2008 at 10:45 am #

    You use soap? You are a diva.

    Also, thank you for reminding me via handbag talk and mink storage that we never could have worked out. I only think fur is murder because it means I don’t have to buy it for ladies.

    But it’s so soft. I actually don’t own a mink coat, I was merely running the errand for my mom-she has 2. -CS

  9. Bob Dobalina June 7, 2008 at 12:25 pm #

    I bet you leave the tub to poop, too.

    Did they let you keep the gowns and gloves? That would be sweet.

    Poop in the tub?? God forbid!!

    Nope, I left those in the hospital. Good riddance to them. -CS

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