Once in my room, the pain is starting to settle in as the results of redirecting my right foot. I lay there and realize there are seven other beds in the room, all are occupied. Suddenly, this character appears and enters the room walking toward me. It is Phil once again. Sneaking in he comes over and like the brother he asks how I'm doing. A nurse finds him and throws him out, not without comedic results, as she tries to stifle her laugh and his antics.
Laying in the bed the whole night in pain, I realize that it is my first stay ever in a hospital since I checked out of my mother's womb and took up temporary residence at the Swedish Hospital in Brooklyn at 1 minute old.
All through the night, I lie in a state of agitation and the deep need to pee. Having no idea I try to slip off the bed in my brand new cast, and as I lower the leg, the pain runs right through my brain, and frantically I return it back to the bed.
The next morning Phil once again shows up, and in the course of our conversation, I tell him of my need to pee. He asks why I don't use a bed pan. He looks and doesn't see one anywhere in the commode. Seven other people are in beds with wives and children as Phil yells out:
‘NURSE! MY FRIEND NEEDS A BED PAIN, HE HAS TO PEE!"
Slowly I recede under the sheets, but I know a red light is glowing under the sheet as I have hit an all-time height in embarrassment!
And so the trials and tribulations of my hospital stay begin.