Hooked up to machines and pipes, I lay here, hearing my hard breathing, my hard heart beating.

I hear the beeping of a machine. I hear the sheets of my bed move together and I shift my weight from my left to my right. I hear my joints grind.

It is so loud in this room. So many things making so many noises. I can't stand it. Someone just come in here and make some actual noise. Something that an old man can be distracted with and not focus on the frivolous.

The frivolous things such as the time I couldn't make it to the park, or missed one of their recitals. The time I missed that ball game or that track meet. Frivolous noises bring about monumental thoughts of failure.

The beeps, so God damn annoying. I press the "nurse help button."

Seconds feel far too long.

"Yes, sir? What can I help you with?"

Noise, such sweet noise to have. No need to focus on the frivolous noises. No need to focus on the failures.