I am here. In the hospital. It's probably day 35. I'm working with day 3. Things move slower when they throw a trach in you.

I know it's Chanukah. People are celebrating Christmas.
Some lady came around with a Santa hat. That was the holiday. Nothing for Chanukah. When you're sick and you can't talk, you're Christian.
The chaplain came around. That was nice. He gave me a blessing and an ornament. He just hung the ornament on me. He figured, "The guy can't move. That's good enough." Then he started caroling.
I think it has to do with Engelman. They think it's Engelhardt and they start giving me sacraments. Right now, I'm worried whenever they bathe me. I don't know if they're trying to clean me or convert me. If I had more of a name like Goldberg, Irving Goldberg, people would know.
Maybe if my family was around and put up something in my room, other than a card from my boss, who is Christian, they might know I'm Jewish.

No Chanukah gifts. I got a Chanukah card that said "Get Well Soon." When you're in the hospital, all cards are the same.
It was a "Get Well Soon" card. The card didn't say, "We hope to see you at home soon." I don't think anybody wants to see me at home. You don't usually see the cripple at shul. They don't like seeing wheelchairs at synagogue. People see a guy in a wheelchair, with a trach and an oxygen tank, and they start to think Gd doesn't answer prayers.

Last days, people have stopped coming. They figure, they don’t want to me to
expect it. I might complain. I can’t talk!!!
They must be mad I missed the softball game. They were depending on me. Your team has got to be real bad to be hoping the guy in the wheelchair loaded on morphine can take over the game. Maybe they were hoping I would get walked. Or pushed.

Family stopped by for a minute. That was nice. They popped in to tell me they were going to a Chanukah party. They thought I would appreciate knowing they are not going to be with me.
There is this concept that you can't be happy in hospital. Then what do you expect from me. Stuck to a bed. Staring at a screen that has squiggly lines all over it, and numbers that nurses don't seem to like.
My whole family is convinced you can't celebrate in the hospital. The hospital is not the place for holidays. And it's not a place to visit your dad.
Forget about a party. They didn't even acknowledge the holiday in my room. Do I not deserve the right to get a Chanukiah. I would like the holiday candelabrum. I guess they think it’s dangerous to light when you have an oxygen machine. The priest is at least trying. He keeps asking the nurses when he'll be able to put a cracker in my mouth.

Where the hell is my family? I don't care it's a holiday. It's not like they have ever enjoyed the community parties. They complain about it all the time.
I guess it has something to do with ICU. Maybe the ICU is a downer. We'll see what happens when I'm out of here.
Wait. There's a waiting room here. My parents are loving the hospital. The waiting room is a family reunion. Everybody loves it. Friends pop over to those things. Nothing is more enjoyable for a family than surgery. Everybody gets together.
They should be celebrating a Chanukah party in the waiting room. Maybe that sounds off. Big parties in the waiting room and other families are coming in trying to figure out if the doctor is right and they should pull the plug. "You want some Chanukah Gelt? It's chocolate in silver foil."
I say celebrate it all. Every moment. I’m alive. Celebrate the stroke. And cry. People should cry a little. I want to know people are crying.
You can enjoy the holiday in the hospital. Put up streamers. That's all I want are streamers.

I've started thinking positive and appreciating the small things. That sounds cliche. But when your way of celebrating Chanukah is by seeing nurses in Santa hats, you appreciate it all. So let's count the Chanukah miracles. I coughed today and I didn't get a cramp in my stomach. That made me not want to die. The doctor didn't call me a vegetable or a Chanukiah today. The chaplain thought I was an ornament holder. Did I get any Chanukah gifts? Got a blood transfusion. I guess that was a gift. My butt got wiped today. That was appreciated. Nobody pulled a plug. Thank Gd. My TV is on. They haven't changed the channel from Weather in eight days. But at least no plugs were pulled on me. Maybe my family loves me.
People are caroling. That’s nice. I guess I’ll take those as Jewish songs.

If my kids came around, that would be a miracle.
"Can somebody hear me?! I want streamers!!!! I guess I am not saying anything. Can somebody hear my thoughts?! Steamers!!! It's a holiday. Steamers!!! I need streamers in my room. Stop looking at the machine. Put streamers on it."
We have to celebrate each moment on this earth by doing good. Even when we have it real bad, we need streamers. Maybe that's the morphine talking.
My prayers will be answered if people still appreciate me, and somebody gets streamers. Streamers!!! It's a holiday!!!!

I want my family to go to the shul Chanukah party. But I also want them to come here and tell me how messed up it was. I want them to celebrate with me too.
What I'm trying to say is holidays are about joy. Celebrating is about joy. Not Latkes that turn out to be soggy Tater Tots. That's how Mrs. Pinkowitz makes them. We all know it's Tater Tots. They're tiny round Latkes. The chaplain gets that. My family doesn't get that. And I need streamers!!! Streamers!!!

These people have already called me a vegetable. It's been two days. I think. Don't know how long I was out for. Could've been an hour, two days, a month. Could've been a year. Cindy's hair definitely looks longer. And I am a vegetable already. This means they don’t talk to me. They talk about me. And I now hate the doctor. And my kids don't have to visit.

Oh shoot. They're taking blood again. That blood guy is not fun.
I haven't been to the American Red Cross in years. I did not sign a consent for this. I am not one to donate blood. I haven't given anything since my kids started going to private school. That tuition.

I had to yell, "Sir!!! This is not the time to be taking my blood and giving it to others!!! What the hell?!!! Why are you poking me. Don't you think I should be resting now." I don't believe now is the right time to take my blood. I need it.
This guy is stabbing me. Does he not know how to find blood? He's poking me all over, pulling out hairs.
Oh shoot. He's using the tape and he doesn't even have it in the right place. He's going to have to pull off the tape again. Damn. This guy is torturing me. Please stop pulling off the tape.
Thank Gd he only took a sample.

And now I have a scratch again. Damn. That is painful. I think it might be worse than the tape. It would've been nice if he poked my the back of my ear. He was poking everywhere else. At least he would've helped with the itch.

My kids are good by the way. My ex-wife told them to not worry about their dad. She said nothing about prayer. Nothing about visiting and being there with their dad after he almost died. She says, "They're too young to give a ----." That's how she watches out for the kids. She lets them know that love and care are not important. She wants them to be focused on good grades, because that's what makes a great human being. Good grades and a dead dad. And not having to think about other people. She said their teachers agree. This is the American education I am paying for.

So, I don't believe these people here respect me. They just told my girlfriend and my mom I'm a vegetable. I think they're going along with it because the doctor said it. Anything the doctor says is correct in my family. So, now I'm a vegetable. Did the doctor also tell my ex that caring about your parents is not important. Did he tell her that Gd's commandments mean nothing when it comes to getting into a decent college? Did he tell her to not have a heart? Did he tell her that alimony is supposed to be my full paycheck?

I'm sorry. It's been a hard day. I am now foliage.
A vegetable?! Did they just call me a vegetable?!
I guess my life is ruined people are going to treat me like ----. Talk about me, in front of me, like I am a teenage legume.
What an a-hole. This doctor. I can care less if you resuscitated me. Who calls somebody a vegetable?!
What kind of vegetables am I? Am I broccoli? Brussels sprouts? Bell peppers? Maybe that's why my kids aren't visiting. They hate brussels sprouts. I think brussels sprouts are amazing. I would've gladly been a sprout.
I guess vegetables do have feelings.
That's it. I'm a carnivore. I am never eating vegetables again. I have a heart. I'm sure my ex is eating a huge salad right now. probably telling the kids it's healthy to eat vegetables. She has no heart.
If I was a science project, they would visit. If I was that thing where they stick toothpicks in potatoes, their mom would let them love me again.

Finally a decent nurse. I think. Thank Gd the blood guy is not the IV nurse.
She's poking me too. Does anybody in this place know how to find a vein???!
Now it makes sense. This is why the girl is poking me like a fool. She thinks I'm cabbage. And cabbage does not have veins.
This is great. The blood guy is coming back. The doctor probably told blood guy to come back and saute me.
I'm a bit worried about that alimony thing. Is she going to take me to court while I have a trach?! I think I just heard the doctor tell her that the money is rightfully hers. I hate this doctor.

And they're pulling off the tape again. Ouch!!!!! Now that hurts. That hurt more than the stroke. That is more painful than listening to John talk about his kids. Do these people have any idea what pain is?! From now on, I hope they just leave the needles in and leave the tape!!!
"Again!!! Please. Just leave the tape. Never remove tape from my body. I'm a hairy guy." I don't think they heard that.

I don't think I'll be able to make the softball game next Sunday.

We’ve been in the ICU for a week now. I want to talk about appreciation and that means food.

Appreciate Nurses Not Doctors
Forget about doctors right now. I am grateful beyond words to them and they don't like talking to me. They only talk with family members of importance. That includes family members that are doctors and pets.
We're talking nurses today. Nurses who go to school and learn how to have a heart and care for people all day long. Doctors care in spurts. Doctors care for the requisite 'hello' and then start thinking about how they're going to cut me open. They're thinking what kind of scalpel will work on me.
I want to show the nurses appreciation. The necessary emotion they bring to the job. I'm amazed at the amount of care they show. I studied acting. I can pull kindness for thirteen minutes. I'm not a method actor. I've timed my ability to care, sitting with community members at shul. I've timed it. I once made it to thirteen minutes listening to Fran talk about her grandchildren. At thirteen minutes, I ran, left my gefilte fish and Kichel on the table. I stayed away from shul for two weeks after that.

Showing Appreciation with Food
We brought them donuts. They appreciated that. Donuts and coffee. That is how you show appreciation in the hospital, if police are taking care of your mother. You bring them donuts and coffee.
The next day, we brought them baked ziti, fruit and salad. They don't like us anymore. Salad is not a way to show appreciation. Cabbage is not a gift. You don't make friends with celery sticks. You can try to wow them with peanut butter. They still won't like you. And they definitely won't like you if you bring pasta in cylinder form.
Cake, candy, ice coffee. That's how you show appreciation. Stuff that makes you fat.
Fruit might work. but only in platter form. Once they platter it, that's real expensive, and that's appreciated. And don’t ruin chocolate by putting it on a strawberry. It's not appreciated. And we're not sure if that makes the chocolate healthy or not. Quite confusing.

Why Show Appreciation
Nurses like to put on weight.
They will treat your loved ones better if you put out stuff they can't eat at home. It turns out that some nurses force the healthy stuff on their kids. They show up to work for the chocolate. And their kids think asparagus makes you fat.
If you end up bringing a tortilla salad, with soggy tortillas, they're pulling the plug without even asking the family first. I heard about that in the waiting room.

Waiting Room Advice
We learned the technicalities of nurse feeding from our buddies in the waiting room. Working nurses is a big topic in the waiting room. Working nurses and death.
A woman in the waiting room told us the rehab technique of leaving the donuts and candy in the room. She also suggested to buy them trinkets, even though you can't eat them. This way they want to help the patient. Her loved one was on life support, but she understood what was important. Candy.
The candy in room technique is quite helpful. The candy works as nurse bait. Taffy works best. It takes a while to chew, and it keeps them in the room for a few extra minutes.
To cover all bases, we put out Kinder eggs. They got those little toy trinkets inside the chocolate. I believe Kinder Co. is trying to corner the waiting room market.
I was a bit hesitant to take her advice, as she was working for her family member as well. Nonetheless, I found an excellent deal on Kinder.

Now the Nurses Expect the Food
We gave the nurses some of the food. That was a mistake. Now they expect it.
We forgot one day, they ignored us. We pressed the emergency bell to the room, nobody came.
To get the nurses to stop complaining, we gave them the ziti. They stopped asking for food after that. It turns out nobody likes ziti, or people who give it to them. To quote, 'Ziti?!!! The family couldn't even get us mac and cheese. Oxygen is dropping. Til the family brings mac and ice coffee, they're on their own. I'm not going.'
We had a family discussion about higher quality food. We can't live up to nightly shnitzel and brisket for all the nurses and aides in the ICU. We're sticking to donuts and coffee.
It turns out the nurses only come if they're getting apple fritters. The machine beeping with the heart rate monitor, showing 'oxygen low,' does not bring nurses to the room. Fritters.
To quote: 'There are no fritters and coffee. Let the machine beep.' Response of Aide: 'I think they're the ones that brought us the ziti.' Nurse Again: 'I hear you. Let somebody else cover that room.'

Things I Learned
Show proper appreciation to the nurses and give them cake. Better yet, donuts. Don't try to be fancy. Stick to donuts and coffee. Or donut cake and coffee.
If you want people to hate you, give them vegetables. And never give anybody ziti, unless if you're looking to make an enemy.
Some nurses eat healthy. They're losers. We will discuss them another time. There's no pleasing these people.
If you truly care about your loved one's well-being, bring coffee slushies. Even the healthy nurses like those. Coffee slushies are part of the health category of food. Once the sugar is served in frozen coffee form, it's healthy.
Never buy doctors anything. They make enough off the insurance. They can afford coffee and donuts.

Conclusion
Don't waste money on nurses, buying them jewelry. Stick to trinkets.
Some nurses don't like to talk to me either, even if I have donuts.
Forget about the aides. Nobody thinks about the aides or CNAs. So, don't worry about getting them anything. They don't have access to the meds.
If it wasn't for food, I would be questioning why we have community. If it wasn't for food, nurses would be questioning why they're taking care of these people.

***For an Aliyas Neshama for HaRabbetzin Necha Bat Chayim Zaydel A”H and a Refuah Sheleyma for all who need a speedy recovery, and shared laughter with their family and friends.

This sucks. Did this really happen???
Let me tell you what happened.
I thought I was gone. I was fine with that. Then somehow, I woke up and everybody was looking at me real weird. Like somebody just died. It's awkward when people are looking at you like you just died. And you did. Some were sad. I still like them. The others that had a smile on their face, it better be that they're happy I woke up.
I was fine with being gone. I was content not having to hear them complaining about pumps and augers anymore. Not having to fix stuff at the factory was not a bad reason to die. Not having to try on pants at Marshall’s, that’s a good reason to go. Between us, ice cream in general has been getting worse. Some people are even insisting frozen yogurt tastes good.

These are my thoughts. Apparently, nobody can hear me screaming. Maybe my voice is gone. I tried cracking the joke, “What's going on here? Did someone just die?” Nobody laughed. They must've not been able to hear it. Great timing too. Might have been the ambulance. Those things are loud.
They say it was a stroke. Was it a heart attack, cardiac arrest, having to raise kids? I don't know. It might have been a car accident. I don't know what happened. We'll call it a stroke. 

These are my memoirs. At least they're memories of what I can remember. I don't know. I had a serious stroke. Calm down. This is what I got. Do I have brain damage? How would I know?! All I know is that I have had to listen to a lot of people say real stupid stuff since the accident. They have definitely made me dumber.
These are the memories I have. I figured I would put this out there. I can't talk. That's what everybody is saying about me. I can't talk, I can't move, and from what I understand, some people want me dead. So, I figured I would write this with my buddy.

Day 1
I'm looking up. I have no idea what is going on.
Who are these people? I haven’t seen them before?
Did they just wake me?! I was in the middle of a good sleep. And why are they standing right by my bed?! That’s rude. Have they been watching me sleep the whole time?! Who the hell are these people?! Who the hell watches people sleep?! A little privacy would be appreciated. I think I just poohed in my bed.

Can everybody please stop staring at me?!!!
Why is everybody on top of me? And why I am in a stretcher?
Is this another doctor? Do they change my primary doctor every day?
Something is messed up here. Does anybody hear me? Please. A bit of privacy would be nice. Oh no. Some random dude is about to change me. Why do I keep on getting the guys. I would like a woman for once.
I have a lot of questions right now. And one of them is who is going to pay for all of this.
 
I guess I have a stroke. This fool in a white coat is saying, “It's a stroke.” I get it. I have a stroke. Will you shut the ---- up?! 
Why is this guy asking me questions? He knows I can't answer them. I have been yelling for the past five minutes and nothing is coming out.
How did it start? From what I remember, it was a conversation with John. Worst conversation I ever had. I have had some real bad conversations, but my head has never exploded before.

Let me take you back to when it stated.
I was hanging out with my buddy, John. Last thing I remember. John was telling me about his kids. We were in the promenade getting a cup of coffee and my brain exploded. He wouldn’t stop telling me about his kids going off to college. Yapping away about how proud he is. He just wouldn’t shut up. And boom, my brain just gave up. There is only so much hearing about John’s kids and the sports scholarships my brain can take before blowing up.
I would have to say, that the worst conversation I ever had. Even worse than the time I had to listen to Bernie's jokes at synagogue. That must be how strokes happen.

Forty-three. Who the hell gets this when they're forty-three. I am sure she's going to break up with me.

It turns out the white coat girl isn't even a doctor yet. She's still a student. She just likes saying “stroke.” Like she figured something out. I don't think now is a good time to ask her out.

Medicaid better cover this. If it was up to me, I would not be in this hole. I don't think workers comp covers conversations about how proud John is of his kids. So not talented.

I have never been in a hospital where I can find my way. When I visit people, I get lost. Sometimes, I can't even find the entrance. I can't tell you the amount of times I have been late to appointments because I was there on time.

It Must Be Poor Building Plans
Half the time, I have to go through another building that was added on fifty years ago, to get back to the building I was in.
Here is an Actual Conversation: 'How do I get to building A?' 'You go through building B, then you take the orange elevator. Come back down the green elevator then go through building A. You might make it after you find blue.' 'Am I in building A now?' 'Yes. But to get to building A, you have to take the purple stairs to building B. But there is more...'
It's harder than giving directions in Jerusalem. They may not have streets that lead into each other going the correct way from a one-way street. However, in the Holy City they at least have street names. In the hospital, I have to memorize color number codes, foreign alphabets, floral arrangements. The directions went on: 'It's 55g74d on the red spectrum. That's where you'll find the elevator... Then you find somebody who is standing near some lilies.' It's like a scavenger hunt. I have to find somebody by the tertiary colors to get back to the primary colors, where I can visit my family..

Information Had No Idea
I went to reception. For my last appointment, they had no idea. Information had to look at a map. At first they were shocked and told me I was at the wrong hospital. Then I got this, 'This is our city... Yes. Most of it is underground.' They marked it like I was a tourist, and they were amazed that they figured it out. ‘Nope. I was wrong. You go that way. Through those doors to get that way. Then, that way through purple color code 548de3 stairwell back to fluorescent green. Now I know what the neon signs are for.’
I shall repeat. Yes. It is frustrating when the information people have to look at a map. It's like going the information booth at the subway station and them going, 'I am just as lost as you are.' That's why the hospital people sit at information and don't move. They don't want to get lost.
The only person who knows how to get anywhere is the lady in the gift shop. They've found shortcuts to deliver balloons lilies.

No Hospital Plans the Additions
They do an addition and then they give it a color. They expect you to know that fluorescent yellow color code 5132d3 means 'right.'
They throw down a building, build some kind of skyway, on ground level in a color coordinate. And then they realize that there are no entrances to the building they just built.
Why they have skywalks on ground level still baffles my mind.

Doctors Get Lost
I can't imagine doctors can find their way in these places. It would take more than four years of medical school and eight years of residency to learn how to locate the operating room. That's why they call it a residency. You need to live there for many years before they can trust you to figure out the location of your office.
This is why we have to wait for doctors all the time. They have no idea where the appointment is. They can't find their way from their office to the room. And if they're colorblind, they have to quit.

They Don't Want You to Visit Family - That is My Conclusion
It’s a maze with random colors. Unless if you're a tracker, you will get lost. Once, I found a cafeteria. It must have been in an unmarked bunker. I never found it again. They do whatever they can to make it impossible to find your way and visit.
Once you've studied maze building and mastered escape rooms, you can visit your family member.
It's even harder to find ICU. ICU is tucked away behind tertiary colors in an unfinished building. Transparent tertiary is code for ICU in the hospital. I didn't know that.

Conclusion
Once I find ICU, with the help of the floral lady at the gift shop standing by the neon green opaque, I stay. I know that if I try to find the waiting room, I will never find my way back.
And don't tell me that you were at the hospital and it was easy to find your way. That was not a hospital. That was an office building. It might have been an infirmary. It was definitely not a hospital.
I've got an appointment tomorrow at the University Medical Center. I am going to study my tertiary colors. I know I am not going to find my car in the parking lot. I'm going to have to abandon it and walk home.

I Can't Go a Day Without Eating
I am going for a quick procedure and the doctor's office said I can't eat for a day. I have never been so mad in my life. Yom Kippur is painful, but I do it. I do it for the sake of Heaven. So that I can get Heaven. Now, I've got to do another day with no food???!!! And I don't even get Heaven for it!!!
If another Jewish calamity happened, I would fast. As a good Jew, that's how I mourn. I fast. That is tantamount to giving up everything, to me. I asked the doctor if a great Jewish sage died on this day. He had no answer. He also couldn't answer anything about a Jewish exile from Rochester, New York. I let him know that another Temple was not destroyed, and then I agreed to not eat for the day, and his staff went back to work. My anger apparently drew everybody's attention.
And I think about people who are ill and being fed through IVs, and I forget about them and I get very angry that I can't eat for the day.

Our Whole Life is Entertainment
TV. Internet. Eating. All we do is try to enjoy ourselves. Even learning. People learn Torah and they enjoy it. It's entertainment. Don't ask me how it's entertainment. I have seen some Chasidic Yeshivas where they learn Rashi and dance the Hora.
How can it not be our duty to bring constant enjoyment and entertainment to people who can't access it themselves? Would that not be our most important moral duty in this physical world we live in? And, do people without full strength, who express joy without all of this constant entertainment, not deserve more respect than anyone, for their strength?
Reminder. I am getting angrier, as it has been another hour without food. Even being able to drink liquids bothers me. If I'm not chewing on food, I am not happy.
Just drinking liquids is painful. I enjoy liquids when I'm eating solids. I need the food. It's like having a cup of milk and no pastry. Like drinking a glass of Coke with no brisket. Like drinking Snapple with no pizza. You need the thing to wash down. I don't wash it down with chocolate milk. I chew it down with rugelach.
Our life is activities. We need to be doing stuff. I need a division head in my house, making sure I don’t get bored.

How Do They Do Any of It
They can’t eat. And they live???
Limiting my enjoyment with anything bothers me. My whole day is about enjoyment. How do they not leave their bed, get bad sleep, get woken every three hours, never leave their room, not have their TV on, have nobody around for a day or eighty, not move at all, get stuck in a gown with their tush out all year?
I can't stay in a bed for longer than thirteen hours. I can sleep for thirteen hours. I just can't stay in bed after that.
I can't be in a room with nothing to do, just left to space out. I’ll start cleaning. When I’m cleaning, something is wrong. How people can stare at a ceiling and want to live baffles me. There must be a greater level of transformative mediation when people leave you in a room with nothing to do. I just don’t know how to meditate without eating.
I can't not watch TV (TV means something on a screen that has volume on it- TV includes watching a movie on computer- and all the Frum Jews who are hiding their TV should know I see their computer, and I am judging). If I needed somebody to turn on my TV and they weren't there, I would go crazy. If they put on the wrong channel, because they thought Hallmark was a good station, I would probably start eating solids.
I can't not have people to talk to. I even have a hard time being at home alone. I need the TV just to hear other people's voices. Preferably a drama with family yelling at each other. That makes it feel more like home. As annoying as it is to have to talk to people at Kiddish, I need it. I need shul. If I’m not at shul, I'll never be able to find my doctor.
I can't go a day without leaving the house. Even during COVID I went to the grocery store every night. It was the only place I could go. Sometimes we didn't need anything, so I picked up milk. We had freezers full of milk by the end of COVID.
I can't not go to the gym. I need to be active to know that I'm aiding myself in being less healthy and out of shape.
I can't have random people changing me, putting on messed up clothes with the tag of the women that used to be in my room. Hand-me-downs from Ethel, who none of the new staff ever met.
Reading. I can go without reading. But people enjoy it. Don't ask me.
I can’t not eat. There are people in this home that haven’t eaten for years. Not eating for one day, I can see how much more we need to give to our family and friends who are bedbound. And thank Gd for TV. If I didn't have TV for the day, I would be even angrier. And I can change the shows.
 
It's Not Spiritual
People have to stop being spiritual. Bedbound people need stuff to do.
Spirituality is great when I don’t need food. I was praying for food today. Didn't help. I couldn't eat it. I needed other activities. At least I had TV, and I could turn it on. I was able to move around and get out of my house. Those who are bedbound and/or can’t eat, their activities are limited. They can pray and connect with Gd. But they can’t reach the remote.
Whenever it comes to sick people, or people without full health, everybody gets spiritual. They start praying for them. They leave them unattended, staring at their feeding tubes, and pray for them. 'I pray that somebody is taking care of them.' ‘I pray they’re not bored.’ ‘I hope they’re enjoying the football game. I pray somebody turns it on for them. It’s a great game. I pray one day they’ll be able to eat wings again… Honey. Where's the garlic mayonnaise dip.’
I am very angry about this not eating thing. This doctor has no soul. I love garlic mayonnaise.

Conclusion
Most importantly, they deserve our respect. How do they do it? How do they go on from day to day and still find beauty in this world, and appreciate it? Strength. Spiritual strength. TV.
People who are sick, and people living in a less physically able state, deserve our admiration. They deserve our support. They deserve for us to be there, to help them with all the moments of entertainment they deserve, so they don't have to focus on not eating. They deserve for us to learn from them.
They're an inspiration. Weight Watchers should be out there praising them. Letting the world know that people are out there not eating solids.
One day and I can't do it. And I'm watching TV right now, on the internet, hitting the gym after the procedure, and I'm praying to Gd and being spiritual so I don't have to help anybody.
It's not helping people enjoy life and bad cooking that destroyed the Temple.

You know things are bad when. I like that. Start every sentence with that, and this will be an amazing comedic piece. It may take longer to read the article that way, but it will bring more laughs. 
You may not be aware that things are bad, and I am here to help make it clear. There are levels of bad, and some may not be aware of the higher levels of things not going well. Here is a list to help you remember things are bad.

The Family Comes Out to the Hospital
The more family that visits, the worse the situation is. Five people visiting you at the same time in the hospital means you're probably waking up from surgery. Community might visit. Eight family members means there was an accident. All siblings, children, parents and one grandchild means you're in some ICU. Fifteen family members in the room, you've got it bad. You start seeing your cousins showing up, it's bad. You've got to start questioning if you were resuscitated. The more family that comes the worse it is. Fifth cousin, Eitan, shows up, you're probably dead.

If You are in a Gown For More than a Day
It is just bad. It's worse than sweatpants. You know you're stuck in that room. You know you're not going out with your tuchis showing.

People Are Talking Close to You And Loud
If they're talking loud, there's a problem. And you now know that you may have lost everything but your hearing.
They talk loud because you look bad. It has nothing to do with your abilities. There are levels of sick loudness, and that comes along with distance. If they're right up at your bed, leaning into your face and yelling, you are extremely ill. You may not feel it, but you definitely look it. To them, you are very sick. They are yelling in conversation.
The sicker you are, the closer they talk to you, and the louder. If your family is staring right at you, at the distance of three inches, question if you’re still alive.

They Talk About You As If You Are Not There
Those same people are talking close to you, are now talking about you. They are speaking Lashon Hara about you, right in front of you. 'Michael has had a bad day.' 'Michael. Me. Is right here!!!' 'Michael fell and is now here.' 'Can people stop talking about me.' And if they don't hear you, that's worse.
If they can hear you, they definitely won't care what you say, as it's more fun to talk about how sick people are in front of them. It feels more like an act of Rachmanis (compassion) when you don't care what the sick person is saying.
If it's a big group talking about you. Even worse. Doctors rounding on you with students. Now, they're using you for a study. Questions about dissection is real bad. 

You Start Playing a lot of Bingo
If you're playing Bingo and you never smoked, you are in a nursing facility.

You Get A Comfortable Bed From Your Prescription
Your bed now doubles as a recliner. Actually not that bad. But you did hit a threshold of sick when your bed reclines and rises, and you didn't have to pay for it.

You're Drinking Shasta Cola
If you're drinking any cola that isn't Coke or Pepsi, there is a problem. You've been thrown into a nursing facility. Shasta is the national sign that you're in a nursing facility. Store brands also count for nursing facility realization.

Hallmark is Playing
If it's not the Golden Girls. At least that's a quality show.

Your Pills Have Days On Them
When you have to organize your pills in day form, and that is how you spend your Sundays.

​You Don't See Grandchildren
They know they're not getting any gifts from you once you're in the home, because Medicare doesn't cover chachkies from Five and Below. That's when they stop visiting. It's clear, all of your belongings are relegated to a drawer. There is no way grandma is substituting her last dress that she has for Nursing Home Barbie. Nursing Home Barbie's open back gown might scare the kids. (note for royalties: If Nursing Home Barbie goes out for public consumption, I get kickbacks).

You bend over and a fart comes out. Just bent and that was it. You didn't even realize it was coming.

You have to lick your fingers to turn pages.

You realize the pages are still not turning, so you build up a good chach and spit.

People say stuff like 'she's vibrant.' When they use words like vibrant and with it, you're older and look like you are about to die.

You decide to push a button to open the door. Pushing a door open is too much effort.

You throw your coat from a seated position. After finding a sofa or the closest thing, you throw the coat as close to the closet as possible. One thing that you will not do is get up and hang it.

Getting into your car is the activity. You finally make it into the car and you have to go back home already, and you're still at home. 

Just being in the hospital. If you don't know how you got there, that's bad. If you wake up in an MRI machine, and don't know how you got there.

Going out means you're going for a CT scan.

All of your shirts are open in the back.

You see other people's tushies all the time.

You're eight inches shorter than you were at eighteen. Note: I want to be 6’6” so I can be normal height at 85.

Playing BINGO is your exercise.

The grandkids say you have a smell. They say, 'Grandpa has a smell.' And you think you smell fine. You've gotten older and you can't even smell it.

Enjoy having it bad. The worse you have it, the more you can enjoy life. The less shopping you have to do. You're not grocery shopping with backless outfits. Tuchises scare people away from the vegetable section.
You know things are bad when people are shopping for you. Come to think of it, a good amount of the 'things are bad when' can be substituted with 'you're getting older when.' This way, you can focus on the positives of getting older and going from 5'10" to 4'3" while smelling bad.

***For a Refuah Sheleyma for חיה נחה בת ריבה לאה and all who need a speedy recovery, and shared laughter with their family and friends.