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Five months in the hospital.
They don't know what is wrong.
I.C.U. and feeding tubes.
What the hell is going on?

They've run every test known to man.
Still can't say why she's sick again.
Amputate the leg. Shave the head.
Dialysis on stand-by.
Shots here. Procedures there.
And specialists of all kind.

You get to know the hospital staff.
Patients come and go.
Visitors cry and patients die.
People you get to know.

He stays in the hotel right next door.
What's it all for?
He's been here for every meal.
Late night calls and four bare walls.
Talk on the phone, at least twice a week.
Keep her on the prayer list at church.
And try not to cry.

"Hold on strong. It won't be long.
And home you soon will go."
Then, "Where do I begin?
There's an infection again."
Two more weeks to stay.

She looks at her husband
and she cries again.
"If I'm gonna die
I'd rather die at home.
Not here all alone."

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