I'm grateful for the amazing care I've received in hospitals (I also have some pretty horrific stories, umph...) but I can't imagine ENJOYING a hospital stay.
Being in a single room is definitely nicer than being on a ward in terms of getting to sleep, but it does increase the feeling of isolation once you're well enough to register that.
Last summer I was in for a couple of weeks where I mostly felt about as OK as I usually did (bearing in mind at that point I felt incredibly sick the whole time & kept randomly throwing up) & just found it frustrating. Not least because prior to my admission I was told I'd only be 2 nights (I have complex health needs so they wanted to admit me the night before putting NJ tube in & I'd go home the day after it was done as long as it was all working ok... Ha!) - I had a proper sobbing session when told it would be at least a week. And then the tube didn't work & I had to have it withdrawn by 20cm & I cried some more... For most of that admission I was fine though & if I hadn't been able to make myself useful to other patients I think I would've gone mad.
That stay I had to run to get help if someone was ill-ill because there was someone in our bay who'd been busily bed-blocking with her imaginary ailments for actual months who CONSTANTLY rang her call-bell, including when staff were in the bay; & threw SPECTACULAR tantrums when she didn't get what she wanted. So staff were always surprised if it was one of us calling for them instead. I wasn't about to let a 95yo woman wet herself because of that, nor leave the woman who "replaced" her thrashing about in pain & struggling to breathe. Both times I went to find someone I got "I thought it was Bed 4, OK, I'm coming now... And you should be in bed! You're ill too you know!"
Bed 4 would copy whatever was wrong with other patients/demand the same treatments as them & sulk massively if she didn't get them. And she'd figured out what to do to trigger certain things & the best time of day to get stuff she wanted done. I had to have paracetamol inserted into my medication list because she pitched such a fit about my being allowed my oxycodone without "trying" a lower strength painkiller first. After she saw me have it IV nothing would serve her but that she have it IV too. Bed 5 had a serious episode of angina & needed chest X-Ray; wasn't well enough to go down even on her bed so portable X-Ray was brought up to ward. Bed 4 then developed chest pains that meant an X-Ray was ordered. Porters came up, she refused to go in wheelchair; they say that's fine they'll take her in her bed; she says she is too ill to be moved. Poor porters come up several more times, she refuses, too ill to go, the X-Ray must come to her. It came to Bed 5, why not to her? She is so ill, this is not fair, she is disabled, they are so unkind to her, they mistreat her all the time because she has no family... We then got a further tantrum because she was told very firmly that she wasn't going to Mass because if she wasn't well enough to go for an X-Ray, she certainly wasn't well enough for that. That was the same AWESOME nurse who actually told her it was a biological impossibility for her to be dissolving food in her mouth as she claimed. I had to sit on my hands so as not to applaud. I actually did give her flowers at the end of her shift as my friend had brought them in for me & although they were allowed on that ward I didn't have anywhere to put them & tbh she more than deserved them - had I had a medal handy I'd have given her that! All the nonsense about suddenly being unable to eat was because she wanted to have a feeding tube put in - I was struggling with the effects of suddenly gaining several kilos within a week (which was basically all fluid, but VERY uncomfortable all the same!) & feeling self-conscious about people staring at me when I ventured off the ward & as well as her antics with food (she drove the poor catering staff to distraction with her totally made-up & ever-changing dietary "needs" & constantly harassed the dietitians, on one day calling non-stop because the ward dietitian saw me & not her because "you're not on my list for today Bed 6 & I'm very busy; we've had a lot of discussions & I've told you it's up to the nursing staff to decide if patients need to see me" thankfully she'd assumed the dietitian was going to her after seeing me or she'd have screeched non-stop while we were trying to talk...) she actually TOLD me that SHE was the one who ought to have a feeding tube, she was so ill & so thin & so unable to eat. A couple of the night staff found me while I was having a little cry about that (I associated feeding tubes with people vastly more underweight than I was at that stage so it really struck a nerve & I have A Thing about wasting NHS resources...) & cheerily told me if they could they'd put a really wide-gauge NG in her & do bolus feeds through it...
I missed one of her most spectacular tantrums as I was Really Not A Well Bunny & managed to stay asleep while she ranted & raved about favouritism & the nurses spending all their time with me & Bed 1 (who was really quite poorly post-op bless her) because we were young & pretty. I was just sleeping, I didn't need one nurse, let alone two! Why did noone remember SHE was the person who was ill, who was disabled? She was ringing her bell & they didn't answer because they were fussing over someone who was just asleep. Bed 1 told me there was quite the set-to & she got a serious telling-off including for her habit of disturbing the rest of other patients...
I've also shared with shouty!woman (whose brother, Sir Brother'sName, was head of a large charity - she always referred to him by his title) who had been on the hospital pain management programme when she broke her wrist. She needed surgery but should have been discharged the next day. However, she flatly refused to go. They hauled in another consultant to back hers up & still couldn't lever her out. I, meanwhile, was desperately brokering some weekend leave so I could go to see "Hansel & Gretl" at the Opera House (I got the leave & a couple who sponsored the performance arranged for some of the dancers to meet me & sign photos for me... Am a lucky Zebra...) while she behaved exactly as if nurses & HCAs were servants. She tried to force one of her daughters to come in to visit her rather than going to see her MIL. A long-arranged weekend stay, some distance away, with a MIL who had cancer. "But mummy's broken arm should be the most important thing to you now Daughter'sName! I just can't believe you're being so SELFISH!" She also ended one of her MANY phonecalls to Sir Brother'sName with "no, it's no good, I'm going to HAVE to go, the woman next to me is on the phone & she is SHOUTING in foreign".
Have had all sorts of weird & wonderful wardmates but I think the most distressing was after my first reconstructive knee surgery when I was 22 (& genuinely, in my PJs, looked about 12) spent a night with the elderly lady whose bed had been opposite mine until that evening when they'd moved me to be closer to the toilets as I was starting to mobilise (top tip, never agree to bilateral knee surgery, it is a horrific experience, especially if the aftercare is poor) alternating between terrified screaming & wailing about them having killed the little girl (ie me) & were going to kill her next; and singing "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam". She had a raging UTI, which had gone unnoticed because of the dire "care" on that ward. They wouldn't let me go to her to see if I could calm her down by demonstrating my still being alive. 
