Someone clogged the toilet!

My sister encouraged me to blog about an interesting incident I had while at the hospital. However I must warn that there is no way to properly relate the experience unless you are currently inhaling raw sewage... Prepare your noses... I had Alex as you all know Monday afternoon. I was moved to a lovely 3rd floor private post partum room Monday evening. It had a nice big TV and a huge window view over the front of the hospital, which was so nice for the claustrophobic in me. I never sleep well in hospitals, so Monday night was spent watching visitors and sick people come and go outside all night. Tuesday evening Hans and I were being served that celebratory hospital dinner for two..you know the one with chewy surf and turf, or boxed chicken cordon bleu... Well Hans asks me what I flushed down my toilet. Of course nothing I say, which is the total truth, and he informs me that the toilet is plugged and we are going to have to tell the nurse. "GREAT!", I am thinking! "Just what I need." So we go on eating our dinner, and the nurse comes in and informs us that someone down the hall plugged the toilet, and that is why we are all having problems. about 10 minutes later, we look out our big window and see roto-rooter pull up. The next 2 hours were nothing but the sound of the plumbing snake in a room nearby. Hans left at about 8:30 to go home and see the kids and sleep. and I am thinking, "Please don't leave", but of course I don't have the guts to say it because I know the kids want to see him... so he goes, and I am left with the snake sound. After about 3 hours of that, a growing stench, and a ton of crappy tv programs, my nurse comes in and says, "The toilets are blowing up one by one, and the plumbers informed me that yours is next. We are going to move you." She helps me gather my things, and I find that my backpack, which was in the bathroom, has already fallen victim to gray water...nasty! Alex and I get led out and are taken back to the labor and delivery wing were we enter a small door in the dark that is the triage area. We walk down the hall, around a dark corner, down another hall, to a tiny, and I mean tiny windowless room, that I swear was exactly like a jail cell. The nurse kept saying how lucky I was to have a room with a door, a giant piece of sliding plexi-glass. I have a bathroom to share in the hallway with a bunch of pregnant women, and a tiny box tv on a hinge arm that I can swing away from the wall. Alex and I spent the night listening to the triage fill up, and the growing sound of fetal heart rate monitors being put on women waiting to be officially checked in. In the morning the pediatrician can't find me without an escort, and the breakfast doesn't come at all until I ask my nurse if I can have my scrap of bread and water... Needless to say I survived, and I was even given a 30 dollar walmart gift card from the head nurse for all of the trouble, but between you and I, if given a choice, I'd rather have had the room with the giant window. Oh and in case you were wondering, yes, I did wash my back pack!