So, he was only mostly dead?
Jesus, the only way I can tell this isn’t me posting is that you only had one roommate die on you. I had two go on me when I was in the hospital last year, and both times it took quite some time before they moved him out. Hell, one guy was only there for an hour before he died, so it took much much longer to get the morgue guys out there than it did for him to die.
It was actually the next roommate who kept pulling the “trying to walk” trick, though.
I’m not surprised it took a while to remove the body from the facility, but I’m surprised they didn’t have someplace other than your room to stash it in until the undertakers arrived. That must be disconcerting.
There were others who I thought were going to die when an ambulance hauled them from here to a hospital, but they got better. I took it personally.
After my second guy died, I started to wonder if I was next and no one was telling me.
It was starting to feel like Swamp Castle there for a few days. “But the fourth one stayed up!”
But in truth, the fourth one was the guy who woke up in a full blown paranoid delusional state. I started pining for the guys who just quietly died.
A special joy of growing old is the casual way one confronts death. 
Suppose there was an earthquake nearby, and the body moved ever so slightly…
I would get the heck outta there, leaving my arm behind if necessary.
This.