Mags, so happy you're home. I have never understood why hospitals think it's an awesome idea to make sure no one gets any decent rest. Mr. Again had a knee replacement and spent two nights in the hospital and didn't sleep at all, mostly because they kept waking him up to check on him. Seriously?
IP, you and I need to start a support group for apartment living. It's been 30 years for me and it's a mind adjustment for certain, not least because Worrier Dog is fairly convinced at every sound that We Are All Going To Die. Which causes me continuous high blood pressure because I'm fairly convinced that thanks to him, We Are All Going To Be Evicted, which We Cannot Afford.
My other dog, aka Brains Sold Separately, has done pretty well except being a young dog, he still occasionally is using his single-digit brain cells for things other than bladder monitoring. So last night he curled up in the middle of our new, makeshift bed...and aforementioned bladder failed him. Copiously. On the only sheets and one of the two blankets we had. Did I mention I had spent the entire afternoon putting them all through the wash? Did I mention he had been outside not an hour earlier?
Group hug to all...
P.S. It's amazing how even on day 475 the monster still wakes up and pokes me every once in a while. Yesterday (which marked four weeks since we started this craziness) after Worrier Dog had loudly lost his mind everywhere we had driven all afternoon and we had spent the morning moving out of the hotel and shlepping our meager belongings (where is moving van? Where?) up two flights of stairs, I heard, "YOU NEED DRINK. NOW."
I bashed it over the head with a 2 x 4 promptly, but it just goes to show...