The surgery went well and after the recovery room I was taken to a semi-private room that was too small to accommodate my power wheel chair, a chair for a visitor and the table device that all hospital rooms have.  There was a ceiling lift that traversed both beds in the room and in order to use it all the privacy curtains had to be pulled out of the way exposing all to the world, both me and my room mate.
My stay had all the common highlights, poor food, people in and out all night turning on lights and waking you up to check the vitals etc.  What was new to me was the diaper.  Never in my adult life had I been forced to wear diapers and pull ups and I soon learned that this was done more to help with the staff shortage than for my personal health and wellbeing.  I don't know how many times that I asked for a urinal and was told to just do it in the diaper, it will be changed soon.  I know this is gross but the first few times that you feel urine running up your back and down your legs it is a real eye opener. It is a humiliating experience only to be superseded by feces squashing out between your butt cheeks and having to lie there in the fouled diaper until some one was able to clean me up. Please note that the staff were great and that the discomfort is more due to budget restrictions (read staffing restrictions and cutbacks) than to any other reasons.
To be fair, the first few days were due to surgery and to getting on with the healing process, the rest of the time it was because it was faster to leave me in diapers and clean me up later than to put a sling on me, lift me with a ceiling lift and set me on a commode chair that could be rolled into the bathroom.  This would be true of all patients, not just an IBM'er like me who couldn't walk un assisted.
I had asked for a private room when I was admitted and was fully prepared to pay the extra $50 per day.  When taken to the semi private room that I described above I was told no private rooms were available.  4 or 5 days later I asked again and was moved in short order to a private room that was great for space but right at the very noisy nursing station.  I was much happier here but still can't understand why my requests to "Please close the door" were ignored.
After several days I finally brought my personal Support Workers in for mornings and evenings to look after me when I needed it and not only when staff was available.
When the surgeon finally said I was ready to leave the hospital I was elated until told that I could not go home and would be sent to a rehab facility to further my getting better.  I felt good but was very weak and swollen up and it seemed like a good idea at the time.  After 3 different Occupational Therapists visited me on 3 consecutive days and tried to get me to stand I was interviewed by a nurse from a "Transitional Care Unit" who judged me acceptable for the facility.  Within a couple of hours I was taken by ambulance to this TCU and installed in a very nice private room with a bathroom large enough to hold a dance in.  This is another story that I will get to on my next post.