When I was about 17 I got acute appendicitis and was in hospital for a couple of weeks. Towards the end of my time there things didnt go to plan and I got high temperatures and some sort of reaction to the surgery which, after a few days at home, put me back in hospital all that summer. But your post reminded me that in those strange days following the initial surgery I fell head-over-heels in love with a young house doctor who used to come round every day. He sometimes spoke to me (oh bliss!) but he was pretty much all I thought about for those two whole weeks. When I came back into hospital I was on a different ward and never saw him again. Initially it did occur to me that all my reactions to the surgery were just my body making excuses so I could stay in the hospital and be near him.