But once Visiting Hours ended...
I hated those long hours at night. I'd been prone to insomnia for as long as I could remember. What ever was in the IV drip kept me drowsy but didn't put me to sleep at night really.
Oh, I slept until like 11, 11:30pm, then I'd be up all or most of the night. I did most of my television watching at night. Again, no one really care.
I was only in the ER for a few hours, then I was sent up to the third floor for maybe a week. Then I was moved to the eighth floor, and finally the tenth. I never understood why all the moved but I never asked.
The first few weeks there I was kind of going crazy, same old shit day-after-day. Every shift was a new nurse, I actually had two nurse every shift. They were either older, tall White women, or very heavy-set, thirty-something Black woman.
The White women were friendly enough. The Black women mostly kept to themselves, rarely talking. A few were very friendly. They pop in to change the sheets, check my IV drip, get my blood pressure, what ever.
Once I got to the eighth floor things changed a little. It was the sponge baths. First of all on the eighth floor all the nurse were the heavy-set Black women. Nearly every night one of them would undress me and give me a sponge bath. At first I was embarrassed. Not many women had seen me naked, I worked out but my body still wasn't perfect.
But after a while I was kind of turned on by being handled that way by those big, Black woman. After they left I'd try to masturbate fantasizing about them.