I didn't die — the days' not over.
My nephew had surgery recently and he's at my mom, his grandma's house recovering. She's a quilter, a retired school-teacher, and a little OCD. She keeps her house clean, stocked with food, and comfortable. It's like visiting a resort every time we go there. There are even extra toothbrushes if you forget your own. It should be the best place to recover from surgery.
Alas, infection doesn't care. Germs don't care if you're doing your best, they are trying to survive too. You can't fault them for that, but you can try to blast the shit out of them before they kill you. But, they're tenacious. Really. Tenacious.
He got an infection, got really sick and is back in the hospital. We're worried about him, but all we can do is what we can do. That's true at all times for all of us.
I asked my son if we should get him a new roommate if his cousin dies. I'm not a feeler, so maybe I joke a little too much about stuff like this as a stress response. He responded, "probably not". He understands me.
Before I left to the Apple store, I said, "I don't have a will, so if I die, you can have all my stuff, especially all my underwear that might fit you at some point." He nodded. He really understands me.