Feeling an Unseen Presence

Dr. Paz disappeared from my hospital room at Sturdy Hospital that Saturday morning while the prednisone dropped in my eye was making me puke. His inability to find a bedpan for me had proven him pretty useless at the scene anyway.
I did not see him again until Sunday morning, not because of my blindness but because he never came back to finish the conversation or to ask about the sudden and more violent illness. The unsaid implication that astute regular readers may have picked up on is true: NO doctor looked at the infected toe on Saturday.
The toe remained in the same bandage from Friday night to Sunday morning. This seems standard at Sturdy; one of the nurse-type people yelled at my roommate for having changed his own bandage on his wound. He did so because the nurses" had not, and they said they cannot change bandages without a doctor’s specific instructions.
Yis excuse dominated my stay at Sturdy and came off as an excuse for laziness by the staff. I don’t want to call them nurses because I am not sure which were actually nurses, which might be "certified nursing assistants" and which might be volunteer candy stripers. These days there are no differences in uniforms and I would be too blind to probably see the difference anyway.
I was allowed to neither shower nor bathe because they had no doctor orders allowing me too.
My long term insulin regimen of mostly time release insulin bolstered by smaller doses of regular had been completely changed without consultation with me or my GP. This did inexplicably change Saturday night, to further confusion by the "nurses."
I requested whole milk instead of a 1% or 2% because the lower fa milks raise my blood sugar more than whole milk does. That needed doctor’s approval for "cholesterol concerns."
The doctor, presumably, had also disallowed further blankets because of my fever. I could shiver violently and be denied further comfort. On Saturday, while I was afflicted with one of my violent fits of shivers, they told me that they would have to wrap me in a chilling blanket that would have a temperature sensor up my rectum if the fever did not break. I told them to dole out more (and real) aspirin for the fever because the cold blanket thing was not going to happen. When they said the blanket was "doctor’s orders" I told them clearly and sincerely that if such a thing were tried, more than the temperature sensor would end up deep inside someone’s rectum, and it would not be mine.