same kind of different as me by RON HALL & DENVER MOORE

"When we entered Mr. Ballantine's room at the nursing home, the smell hit first - the stench of age, dead skin, and body fluids.  The old man lay on his bed in a puddle of urine, naked except for a neon red orange ski jacket.  His ghostly chicken-bone legs spraweled across a sheet that once had been white but now was dingey gray, streaked with brown and ocher stains."