There was one nurse out of all the many we had down at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, that treated us badly. When my mother was sick, and her kidneys were failing, she said to me that it was no matter, and how long did we want this to go on. I was speechless. Luckily my sister was there, and she heard it too. We didn't report her. It was too long and too stressful a night to do that. We kept watching the monitors, and they weren't telling a good story. We thought that that night might be it. The blood pounded in my head, and I was sick with the thought, though it was inevitable. So we had one bad nurse, but a hundred good ones. And they were good. Saints. I have nothing but praise for them. After my mother was out of the hospital my uncle was in the next month. He was really ill, and we didn't think he would make it. He did, though. Thanks to the excellent care. He spent about 3 weeks in the hospital. When he was released he was really weak, but he gradually got his strength back. We were glad to be away from that place for awhile.