You Don't Play Spit in the Waiting Room

by David Kilimnick

Thoughts from a Waiting Room #4

What is wrong with my nephews?!
The waiting room is not the right place to play Spit. Spit generates too much excitement for those waiting to hear if their family member is alive.
If you're not nervous enough about having to be in the waiting room, hearing a loved one might die, watching a game of kids play Spit will push you over the edge. That is why kids should not be visiting the hospital and sitting around people. Kids should just not be around people.
My nephews are smacking the table, yelling "Oh no." Everybody was worried something happened. Every single person in the waiting room ran to the ICU unit crying, checking on their loved one.

Loss Can Be Devastating
Guy to my left is bawling. It’s his first day in SICU. Everybody cries the first day. After the first day, the family can care less. They've already let out their emotions. What will be will be. From that point on they leave it in Gd's hands. Prayers are less emphatic.
I can care less who stabbed your brother or who put out the hit. You are crying. I felt bad for the guy. He’s shedding tears. I look to my right, my nephew is cheering, "Spit! Got you!"
My other nephew starts crying to his dad, because he lost. That is not the right kind of crying for the waiting room; unless if it brings back flashbacks to times he lost at War. Maybe he was thinking about Uno. Loss can be devastating.

You Need Games
I think we're the only family who turned the ICU waiting area into a game room. One of my nieces asked if they had a PlayStation.
After the first week of crying, you start to need the games, to soften the intensity. Though you shouldn’t be pulling out fun ICU games that are too energetic, like hockey or Spit. You shouldn’t be playing tag in ICU.
The waiting room is more for games like Chess and Gin Rummy. Games that don’t make noise, where you look meditative, which also looks sad. Solitaire. Play solitaire.
The quiet game can also work. That's my favorite game to play with my nephews.

Just Don't Play
No. You don’t play Uno. No game with screaming. No Bingo in ICU. Yelling “Bingo” doesn't hit the right feeling of intensive care.
You play Bingo when you make it out of ICU and end up at the nursing home rehab.

Think About Who's Around
You don’t know when there will be a first dayer. I feel like I want to coach the waiting room rookies.
There's the right place for things. And it's usually Never. Dad is crying and next to him, a cousin is listening to a funny Mother’s Day video of little kids crying. It's not always the right place for Spit.
The greatest memory from sickness is when a cousin is shooting all of us their pictures from the family vacation in Hawaii. My father ZT"L responds, "I have cancer."
When the proctor croaked our regents, I asked a buddy if he wanted to play ping pong. I thought that was the right time for ping pong. When is the wrong time for ping pong? According to my buddy, "Somebody passing out and possibly dying is not the right time."
I pray the guy’s brother is going to be OK. Kind of hard to think about that though, when you're in the middle of a competitive game of Spit.
"Want to play Spit?" "My brother just got ran over and stabbed."

Meditation does look sad. Next time my nephews play Spit, I'll make sure they look meditative.