All this circular talk covering up stuff ends up bad.

We already know you can't use other languages to hide sickness from kids. They catch onto bad foreign grammar real fast. And you, as parents, don't even know what you're saying in French. You use some different language you can’t speak to hide the bad news, and now your ailing relative is getting the wrong medication.
I say don't try to hide the sickness. It's their grandparent. They know. And they should know.

Kids know there’s something wrong when mom and dad walk into the den and shut the door. They know there's a bad illness somewhere. Either that, or you got their report card. Either way, something is not good. At least that was the case when I was a kid. My report card came and I couldn't tell if mom and dad were mad they raised an idiot, or if somebody died. Whatever it was, I failed my family.

The Cover Ups - Don't Try
I'm hearing these parents describe extreme ailment, and it makes no sense. "Sniffles. Grandpa has the sniffles." "Sniffles" is now the technical term for "can't walk because he had a stroke and cancer." 
It’s all lies. When they talk to kids, it’s all lies.
The cover ups are rampant. Parents can't just tell the kids they're broke. They start selling ideas like a "home entertainment system." A whole scam, lying to the kids with concepts like going out in their own house, because they have a “home cinema." "Why do we need to go out to the movies and dinner. We have a home entertainment system. We have a cinema in our living room. And an oven." Then mom and dad express their thoughts on the cost of food. "You know how much the hamburger would be in a restaurant?! And coffee?! The amount they charge for coffee."
You know mom and dad are having a hard time paying the bills when the conversation is "you know how much that would cost at a restaurant." “No. We don’t eat out. Because we can’t afford it.”

Always covering up. "Your uncle isn't poor. He just likes to eat food in pita pocket form. And he likes to sleep in a tent. He's a hiker. He hikes in our neighborhood." The embarrassment of imperfection. "He's not really your uncle. When they ask you at school, you’re not related."
You cover it up and the explanations don't make sense. "Your cousin has a fever. That’s why he’s got a bullet wound."
It gets to the point where parents have to lie, even when it’s good. "We're not talking about Aunt Minnie's wedding in front of the kids. Tell them their aunt came down with the sniffles." Mom and dad will turn weddings into a sickness. You have a Simcha, you think you can tell the kids. Nope. It’s marriage sniffles. “Aunt Minnie has marriage sniffles.” And now the kids think Aunt Minnie caught a disease before her wedding.
The cover ups don't work. Your cousin got shot because he's an idiot, Uncle D is poor and can't afford to purchase food you eat with a fork, mom and dad went broke paying for your summer camp last year, and they haven't had a date night because of you, and grandpa would love to see you before he dies. Go and visit him, you selfish piece of sniffles.

Just Say It - You Can't Protect Them
Parents always want to protect their kids and hide stuff from them. I get it. But you can’t. Think back to your childhood. Did you like it? Exactly. You found out people were dying when you first went to shul and so the old guys Chuching up phlegm wads.
You can’t hide it. "Grandpa is in the hospital for twenty-five days, because he has sniffles?!!!" They know something is wrong when not one doctor can figure out to cure grandpa with a tissue. And they know things are real bad when mom and dad repeat the last word of their explanation a good three times. "It’s a cold. A cold. He has a cold!!!"
Don't try to protect the kids. Tell them, "We're going away for a couple of weeks. Grandpa is about to die. At least he's real sick. He asks about you. Enjoy." Leave your children worried. Every day of their lives they should be thinking "Grandpa could die." That will help them get through elementary school.
Maybe hold off on the dying part. A little hope doesn’t hurt the little ones. You don’t have to make their whole life into panic. You already brought them into this world, sent them to school. That’s horror enough.

We Tried Hiding It for A Bit
Trying to tell them about their Bubby not feeling well, you try to protect the kids. Why. You try the "Bubby’s in the hospital, because she has a booboo." The kid is like, "I had a booboo. You just kiss it and goes away." Then they see the trach.
Some of the family uses it to make the kids more religious. "You have to say extra Tehillim and Tefillah every day and treat people well, for Bubby's booboo to go away. You share with your friends and there's no more booboo. But only if you sit at the table and eat nicely." And now the kids are messed up and praying to Gd. Saying the Birkat Hamazon prayer. It’s amazing what people will use to manipulate their kids into behaving. “Let’s not let the aneurysm go to waste.”
That is a dead giveaway to a six-year-old. She’s thinking, "I have to share my toys. Somebody better be really sick."

Thank Gd, the most my family does is "booboo" and "sniffles." We adopted sniffles from the other family in the ICU. From my understanding, sniffles means you’re on life support.
You call illness what you call it, depending on your age. It's "booboo" through eighth grade. Then you get "sniffles" till you're around thirty. We develop very slowly in my family.
We're not using any code words for bowel movement. BM. Pups. Not poop. Pups. Dinkel. Now your kids are screaming "Dinkel" everywhere. You look like idiots. You look like people who come home with bad report cards.

I can understand hiding cake. But they see worry, they hear French, they know Hebrew, they know. If there’s cake in the house, they know. "There's Boston cream pie running around the house. Grandpa is in the hospital, or dad is out again drinking."

Conclusion
Don't hide it. Once the other language jig is up, there's no way to hide it.
The only news you should be hiding from kids is if there’s cake in the house. Or when you're planning to go to the amusement park. Because they won't shut up about it until you go.

My niece sneezed the other day, and she's having nightmares about how sniffles kills people. Maybe you should hide sniffles from the kids.

Use normal words when people are in the ICU. Don't use your family code words for "about to die." 
Random people in the waiting room are now mad that somebody's taking up a bed in the ICU with sniffles and BM. "What is this BM thing?! There are people now taking up ICU beds and getting trached up for sniffles?! Sniffles and BMs?! What happened to cancer and strokes?! Heart attacks. I want to see people here with heart attacks!!!" "You don't understand Sir. It's really bad sniffles."

Something about knowing things are not all perfect makes for better people. People know. They can now come. They can visit. They can think about the person who has cancer and multiple heart attacks. It allows them the opportunity to walk around depressed for the rest of the week. And to pay for hospital parking.
It also lets you know who the messed-up ones are. The ones who don’t visit. The ones whose Simchas and funerals you can skip. And that is quite valuable information. That will save you a bunch of weekends and money on gifts.
 
The lies started with my grandma. She lied about her age. Since my grandma was younger than my mom, all family facts had to change. Grandma was driving SUVs in the 1930s when she was alive, and yet younger than my mom who wasn’t born yet. And now we’re stuck with sniffles.

Now we're all going around the ICU talking about sniffles. We sound like idiots. Fifty-year-olds who can't even say "cold." 
I'm going to make a Sniffles teddy bear that sneezes and dies. That will make good money. 

***Thoughts From a Waiting Room are thoughts revisited from 2019-2020 in 2026 form. LRefuah Sheleyma LKol HaCholim and shared laughter with their family and friends, bZchut Avi HaRav Yeshaya Ben Yechezkel HaLevi ZT"L vImi HaRabbanit Necha Bat Chayim Zeydel A"H LAliyat Nishmatam.

You can't hide the bad news from kids anymore. Their Hebrew is too good. And whose fault is it. Yours. You sent them to Jewish day school, you sent them to Israel. Some of you made Aliyah and moved to Israel. And you wonder why you have to load up on sugar cereal every time you go to the supermarket.

Parents Try to Hide Stuff
Going shopping. You don’t want them to know. Otherwise, you’re picking up ice pops and Frosted Flakes again.
Parents try to hide information from their kids. That is the goal of parenting. You don’t want your kids to know stuff. Otherwise, you have to start explaining to the little critters why you brought them into this world. And you can't explain that. You're still trying to figure out why Frosted Flakes are so bad. Thus, you hide everything. "We're going camping tomorrow." "When are we going to let the kids know?" "Never." "Won't they figure it out once we're there?" "No."

We're Trying to Hide the Sickness
We're trying to hide the stuff about their Bubby’s condition. Figured, that's what we can do to help. We don't have much say as to the medical treatment, but we can hide stuff from the nephews and nieces. The problem is their Hebrew. The Jewish day schools are teaching too good.
I tried talking in Hebrew about Bubby. It was over in a second. "I know what 'Tiguva' means, I learned it in school." He then went off on a whole rant with the word. No concern for his Bubby, he was just so proud of himself for knowing the word "Tiguva." I had never seen such happiness to a conversation about somebody in the ICU for three weeks.
I have no idea what Tiguva means. I just used it because it sounded Hebrew. I think I was talking about some vacation I went on. I don't know. It was Hebrew. I truly didn't understand what I was saying. I just got involved in the moment. Heard everybody else talking Hebrew. Thought "there's illness, and you don't use English when somebody's sick." I am thinking English is an Eyin Hara. And I don't want to bring the evil eye when kids are around.

Their Hebrew
Their Hebrew is better than mine. My Hebrew is too basic to hide stuff from kids. I can’t Echad Ha’Am my Hebrew. I can’t pull out Navi Prophet words, that are now considered modern poetry if somebody uses it in their writing. People are amazed when somebody uses the Biblical "Vav." The way that letter that changes the future to past tense is mesmerizing. If you can’t understand my transliteration of the Hebrew letter, you're also lacking basic parenting skills. How do you plan to hide stuff from your kids if you can't transliterate?!

Jewish Day Schools Have Ruined Parenting
They’ve got to stop bringing these Israelis to American schools, teaching Hebrew. It is killing parenting. You can’t hide sickness from kids. "'Choleh.' That means sick. I know. I learned it. I'm awesome." No care about who is sick, just happy and prideful they know the word.
They know Hebrew, yet they're not saying Tehillim for their Bubby. They learned the word Tehillim in school, but they can't say the prayers.
And then they're teaching the kids a third language. Now, you can’t hide from them in French. Forget Spanish. They know that too. If I'm going to parent, I am learning Norwegian. They don't teach that in school.

Even if They Did Bad in School
They know something is up, even if they don't speak the language. They know, they hear Hebrew, it's serious. "Mom and dad are talking a language in grammatically incorrect form, somebody is ill."
You speak any language other than local dialect, they know it's not good. "Mom and dad are talking Portuguese again. Somebody must've passed away this time." “Anytime mom and dad talk Portuguese, something bad happens. I’m starting to see a pattern. I think grandpa just had a heart attack. And I think Portuguese is quite ominous.” “How do you know?” “They switched from English to Portuguese. Mid-sentence." 

Now the Kids Think Your Native Language is an Angry Tongue
You speak to your kids in Russian all the time, they are asking, "Why is Russian such an angry language?" Because your mom talks to you in Russian. And your mom doesn't like you.
You think French is the language of love. That's until you hear mom. Mom uses French to scream, because she's French.
I hear a woman speaking Spanish, I know she's mad at her husband. In English she's all kind with her, "Oh Honey. Jue are sweet." Might throw in a Mi Amor. She switches to Spanish, she starts talking fast speed, something went wrong. Dad's in trouble and kids are taking out the trash.
Jews, we used to have Yiddish. Got out our anger among the kids in Yiddish. And everybody knew who the Putz was.

Next time something bad happens, just say "Shalom Koolam Hakol LTova" when you get home. The kids will know, it is Hebrew, something bad is going on. No need to yell. “Mom and dad are talking with messed up grammar again. Something is wrong.” 
Or you can just tell the little ones, "Somebody died. There is death in the world. You don't have too long in this place. That's why you've got to put more effort into the Siddur party."

Conclusion
You want to really protect your kids. You want to hide information from the kids. You want to parent right. Stop teaching them Hebrew. Keep your kids uneducated.
Don't send kids to Jewish day school. Definitely don't teach them languages. Focus their education on English. Nobody uses English to hide news from their kids.
Me and my wife are going to learn sign language. It's harder to yell in sing language. And I want my kids to know that sign language is a language of love.

If you don’t care about protecting your kids, move to Israel. They will definitely know something is wrong when you try talking in Hebrew with your messed up vocabulary. They will realize how dumb mom and dad are, when they can't order Falafel like a normal person.
It's easier to keep your kids dumb in America.

And I am stuck trying to figure out why my sister-in-law is trying to teach her kids French.

***Thoughts From a Waiting Room are thoughts revisited from 2019-2020 in 2026 form. LRefuah Sheleyma LKol HaCholim and shared laughter with their family and friends, bZchut Avi HaRav Yeshaya Ben Yechezkel HaLevi ZT"L vImi HaRabbanit Necha Bat Chayim Zeydel A"H LAliyat Nishmatam.

​I have a runny nose
It's been running all day

I did show up to work
My runny nose does not support me
It does not pay

I don't have COVID
Calm the hell down
I have a runny nose
It's been running all day

Where were you yesterday
When I was coughing
You didn't say feel better

Now I have a runny nose
It was seventy then thirty degrees
You didn't blame the weather

I don't have COVID
Calm the hell down
I have a runny nose
It's been running all day

The amount of mucus in my nose
I have no idea where it is coming from
Yes I sneezed

My nose hasn't moved 
But it's running
I am not a murderer

​I don't have COVID
Calm the hell down
I have a runny nose
It's been running all day

I will keep coughing. I will keep sneezing.
I will keep working. I am not sinning.
I slept standing. And yes I am Chuching.

I can't smell. But you smell disgusting. 
You are the one who is killing people.
If I wasn't sick, I would run from you.

​I don't have COVID
Calm the hell down
I have a runny nose
It's been running all day

My nose is very tired now
​It's been running all day
Calm down or I will sneeze

Now it is you care
There is something is in the air
I hope you freeze
​I will sneeze

That was me
I did not cover my nose
I am proud
​I will sneeze

***I pray for the day all mankind will be able to sneeze as one. A day where once again, mankind will be able to cough and blow their nose, and not be considered a monster.

Yes. I cry.  Call me weak. I tend to cry when somebody I love is on a ventilator. I can't tell you when I'm going to cry. But it will happen. And people judge.

You Can't Cry in Front of People
You can cry in front of people. You just can't really cry in front of people. You can't cry and shriek in front of people. There is crying etiquette that is paramount when you're in the SICU worrying about pending death. When your loved one got hit by a car, your focus should be on decorum.
In public, you have to keep your cry at low volume. Low volume with no "Oh L-rd!!!" You can't add a prayer to your tears. And you can't get out a yowl. They'll think a dog got run over and checked itself into the ICU.

It's Not Acceptable in the Hospital
You can’t get out the full cry in the waiting room. You can’t get out the disgusting looking monster full on breakdown cry in front of others. For some reason, other people stay away from loud cries. And cries with excretion. The sinus cry is not acceptable. Snot mucus streams are still not publicly acceptable. 
For some reason, it's not acceptable to bawl in the hallway of a hospital. People are dying. You would think the one spot people wouldn't judge you for crying is the SICU. Everybody in those rooms looks like they're dying or dead. You look at those machines with the squiggly lines and numbers, and you're thinking, "I have to say Tehillim. A few Psalms." And mucus extends from your orifices. 
Psalms is the immediate response to, "I really don't think the doctors have any idea."

In private, you can scream, pray and snot all over. 
The only acceptable cry in front of other people is a When Harry Met Sally reunite cry. That's acceptable. A family member on a vent who you're hoping isn't dead, you can't let that out in front of other people. That cry is not acceptable.
Point is you need your spot. ​

The Big Cry is Going to Hit That First Week
The new group just came in this weekend. They're crying and they weren't prepared. Now I have to see this.
You've got to prepare for the cry. New people don't know this. They think they're going to show up to the hospital, see their four-year-old nephew missing a limb, on a ventilator, and they're going to head out to a dance party.
There is not one person who has a heart and doesn’t have their big cry. Your loved one is in life threat and you are crying. It happens in SICU, surgery, emergency, the car on the way home. It is going to hit you somewhere. The bigger you are, the more you cry. Those extra pounds on the waist, tears are coming out of that.

The biggest cries are the first week. You are broken. After that, you accept that life sucks. You settle into strokes, heart attacks, aids, cancer, aneurisms, pneumonia, car wrecks, no blood. Loved ones on vents becomes a regular thing. You crack jokes, watch the game, try to figure out your next trip to Disney, start petitioning the congregation about wheelchair access. You become an activist all the sudden. You develop an internal cry in your soul that lasts fifteen years. 
It's almost as bad as breaking up.

New Families are Intruding on Our Space
A lot of new people. It was a dangerous weekend on the streets of Hackensack, New Jersey. I don’t need the news to know what is going on. I see the families funneling in. I know who got hit by a car, and I can verify the shooting.
The new families are here and the new flow of crying is on. It's amazing how the waiting room culture just changed, due to five motorcycle accidents. Nobody tells these people about waiting room etiquette. Stuff they should know. Like the three couches in the room belong to the Kilimnick family.

The Cry Spot Must Be Close
Just had a cry. I wasn't prepared. Rookie mistake. I had a deep inhale cry with a "fufufufufufu." No idea how my exhale came out as a "fufufufufufu." Like somebody turned down the thermostat as emotions hit. And orifice phlegm made it into the "fufufufufufu."
You don't know when the cry will hit. That's why you need many spots. It's not like you have time to get home. It hits you fast. It's not like you can hold it in till you have your own bathroom. 
Carrying a commode with you, so you have a clean place to poo in hospitals, something else you should prepare for. We shall deal with that another time.

No Spot Makes It Weird
It's awkward when you don't have a spot. These new guys don't have their cry spot yet. I feel bad. But what I am going to do? Say "good luck"?
I just saw somebody bawling. Something to do with his daughter falling off her bike and not being able to breath. Just awkward. I don't know if he expected me to hug him. 
I felt bad. It was a painful sight. I had to be the one to tell him, "Get a spot. We all have dying people here. None of us know what to do." I wanted to help. I said, "I can see you're holding in your cry. You've got more in there. There's not one snot ball coming out of your nose. You need a real cry right now. You love your daughter. And we want to love her too. But we don't. You can't get in a good 'Oh L-rd' in front of us. You need to find a spot."
​I have a heart. I care. I want to be here for you. But you cry in the waiting room, you get nothing. You need a spot. Unless if the doctor comes. Anytime a doctor comes out to the waiting room, you have a right to cry. We all get that. No doctor has ever walked into a waiting room to let everybody know how happy they are that they got a hole in one.

Prepare Your Spot
​The problem is they don't have a cry spot yet. They didn't prepare. They didn't scout out the hospital before the accident to figure out where the best place to get out the big cry is.
This is why I suggest scoping out the hospital before family ends up in the ICU. Do it when people are healthy. I'm not suggesting you pray for your family to end up in the SICU, so you can cry together. I'm suggesting you visit a sick friend. Somebody who you don't care that much about. A community member. Visit them. Take notes of the different areas. Find out where the corner rooms are. Corner rooms are potential cry spots. Your family ends up in the ICU, Chas vShalom, you need to cry, you go in there and cry. It's a spot. Don't worry about the recovering guy on a vent who just had their heart sliced open. It's fine. He won't disturb you. He's probably asleep.

There are right ways to handle your cry. Crying etiquette, and Kilimnick couch etiquette. I can't reiterate that enough. They need signs, "Please don't disturb others with your love for somebody who might die. And the couches in the waiting room have been claimed by the Kilimnick family."

Conclusion
You need a cry spot for the real cries. The heartfelt tears. If you have no heart, and your cry is a single tear, you don't need a spot.
We have one uncle who doesn't cry. He says he has to be strong for the family. He has no heart.

I don't like the new group. They don't know which couches are ours yet. They're ruining the waiting room dynamic. We are having a sign made for our couches.

I will fight until the snot mucus monster cry is publicly acceptable. We will not have an emotionally sound society until snot mucus is accepted by all.
"fufufufufufu." Until then, I will try to find more cry spots for everybody.

***Thoughts From a Waiting Room are thoughts revisited from 2019-20 in 2026 form. LRefuah Sheleyma LKol HaCholim and shared laughter with their family and friends, bZchut Avi HaRav Yeshaya Ben Yechezkel HaLevi ZT"L vImi HaRabbanit Necha Bat Chayim Zeydel A"H LAliyat Nishmatam.

Music came on. I forgot about that stuff. The TV has been on news. I've been focusing on hearing about how people end up in the ICU.
I heard some music on the way over to the hospital. I started crying, and that was it. I knew it was the right thing for the waiting room. I'm now playing music on my phone. That's the music medium in the ICU. You get to listen to a song, until you get a call from your aunt.
​I've been tasked with setting the crying mood. The sentimental song mood. Let's be honest. Nobody tasked me with it. I tasked myself. I need to feel like I'm doing something in the ICU. Doctors are coming around, ensuring people's limbs are still attached. Nurses are checking to make sure the blood is still there. I'm DJing. We all have our tasks. We all give back in our own way.

Got to Pick the Right Music
I take my jobs seriously.
I'm not DJing a dance party. I realized real quick, the Bee Gees is not proper mood music for the waiting room. Even if it's catchy. Some of those songs aren't meant for people with family on a ventilator.
"Stayin' Alive" is a catchy tune. Not a good waiting room pick. Doesn't set the right background vibe for an invasive procedure. It shouldn't have been in the mix. Youtube did it. It wasn't the uplifter I would've thought it to be.

Songs Make Me Cry
Songs, especially Dveykus songs from Tehillim, will make you cry. King David's Psalm about looking up to a mountain for help to guitar and harmony. It hits the heart. King David didn't have doctors. He had mountains.
A James Taylor song, that will set me off. "You've Got a Friend." I need one now and I’m crying. Anything that is meant to be sung in a circle, I’m crying. It’s the spherical unity.
I've cried to Chicago. Peter Cetera touches the heart. Excellent for the ICU. If somebody got hit by a car while breaking up, that would truly bring the tears. "You're the Inspiration" is in the mix. Thought you should know that. It's in every one of my mixes. Mood, happy, dance, ICU. Break up. I listen to the break up mix a lot. A lot of breaking up.
Billy Joel still doesn't make me cry. Wu-Tang's "Never Again," I'm crying in a strong way. A man cry. Fist to my mouth, athlete cry, to cover up my mouth tears. That rap about the Holocaust hits you.

Billy Joel Doesn't Make Me Cry
I took Billy Joel out of the sentimental medley.
I listen to Billy Joel, I can’t cry. His saddest song is "Uptown Girl."
"We Didn’t Start the Fire," I’m rocking to it. He makes death and murder sound happy. "Only the Good Die You’ung. Only the good die you'ung." It's the “u” continuation. Something about extending "young" makes me want to bop. I hear him and I'm bopping to the good dying. When Billy Joel sings it, I'm kind of fine with people passing before their time. Though, it's very relevant to the parents with the young boy on a vent, it's too upbeat for the ICU. 
And other families are sleeping in the ICU. You've got to keep the music soft.

Jewish Songs
Uncle Moishy singing "Ain't Going to Work on Saturday" is not going to get the tears rolling. Nonetheless, it's a strong message. And sometimes you want to spread the message of Shabbat to the people in the waiting room.
Avraham Fried's "No Jew Will Be Left Behind." That will get you crying. Might have the other people in the waiting room wondering what kind of lyrics these are. And why they haven't heard that song on the Top Forty charts.
Any Jewish song that has Tehillim in it, I'm crying. I say Psalms all the time now. Signing them. That's a new level of wetness. That next level of Dveykus singalong, you start singing, you're swaying, pulling out a candle, sharing stories about family weekends and crying. And the other people in the waiting room are trying to figure out why you pulled out a guitar while their family is trying to have a conversation. Wondering if you have anybody in the hospital, and why you're not singing in English.
Basically, any Frum Hebrew song, I am crying. Unless if Billy Joel is singing it. I'm not crying if Billy Joel is singing about looking up at the mountains to find a girl. Somewhere on Eighty-Sixth Street.

It Takes a Lot to DJ the Room Right
We’re constantly figuring out what to play in mom's room. There's the waiting room, where you want to claim the space with your music and chase other families away from the couch. And then there's mom's room.
Post surgery can be a tough time to listen to music. So, you want to keep it soft. Soft rock 101.3 is generally good. The problem is you wake up, Delilah starts talking, and you're questioning if your spouse left you.
You want the cry songs in the room. It's just picking the right ones. 
We figured a few out for the room. Basically, anything you can play in the waiting room without offsetting somebody hearing about a family member dying, is fine.
We've taken to the Jewish music, especially Dveykus. Their songs were made for tragedy. It's the gift of tragedy in harmony form. Note: Do not play the Bee Gee's "Tragedy." Make sure that's not in the mix.
We also have Jeff Braverman in there. Something about his voice is very soothing. It's not an Israeli accent, but it kind of is. It's like a soft Israeli accent if an Israeli was from Montreal and never lived in Israel.
The Carpenters. Great. "Close to You." Has there ever been a better song to elicit recovery? The answer is NO. You hear that song and you heal. And then you think about birds. 
Creed. Another amazing Christian rock band for Jews. They truly make death spiritual.

Not Every Song Works
You've got to keep control. Not everybody's music is ICU friendly. My brother-in-law wants to play Metallica and Papa Roach. "Last Resort." Again. Not a good song. Not proper. "Cut my life into pieces. This is my last resort. Suffocation. No breathing." Again. Not proper. Even if it is relatable. 
This is why I've taken control of the DJing. 
You need a vast music library for different medical situations. I will say this one last time, "Death metal is not proper in the surgical intensive care unit." 
And I have made the decision to leave out the rap about the Holocaust. Thought that might be a bit of an intense mood song while on morphine.
And Snoop Dogg singing about sipping his gin and juice is not the proper mood music of choice. The ICU in Hackensack doesn't support smokin in the waiting room.

​Conclusion
Any song that reminds you of camp is good for the ICU. Thank Gd I didn’t have to sleep on a bunkbed in the waiting room. I played my music, chased out the other families, put two couches together and got some good sleep.
 
Billy Joel is too happy for the waiting room. I have taken him out of my intensive care mix. And that's what I call it. And I've given the mix to some friends that I don't like.

Picking the right songs is not easy. You would think Clapton's "Tears in Heaven" would work. That's not the right song for the ICU waiting room. You want to stay away from songs about death, even if they touch the heart. "Dust in The Wind" isn't a waiting room song. It's more of a euthanasia mood song. And there's no ward for that. 
Reminder: Hold off on "Only the Good Die Young." It’s a waiting room mood killer.
If I was writing a Jewish musical, a boy looking for a girl from a good well to do family would be singing "Uptown Girl."

Though the right music is important, I don't bring my phone around to random families in the intensive care, letting them know I have songs that might help. You have to DJ your own tragedy. You can't DJ other people's pain, as enjoyable as it might be to be sitting there, staring at them, playing the song that you feels fits their tears. 
I thought The Carpenters was a perfect pick, when they first got into the waiting room. I looked up at them to provoke some reassurance. A little support. All they gave me was a “why are you looking at us like that.”

It seems that not everybody in the waiting room has my taste in music. Once you go over the river from Teaneck to Hackensack you run into some nonJews who don’t connect with Dveykus and Safam. They didn’t get a good Hebrew school education.
I'm going to invest is some waiting room earbuds. Some people get real mad about James Taylor. They don't like his music, and that is where evil people come from. 

***Thoughts From a Waiting Room are thoughts revisited from 2019-20 in 2026 form. LRefuah Sheleyma LKol HaCholim and shared laughter with their family and friends, bZchut Avi HaRav Yeshaya Ben Yechezkel HaLevi ZT"L vImi HaRabbanit Necha Bat Chayim Zeydel A"H LAliyat Nishmatam.