Numbers often seem dull, but they can be very revealing.
Take the number five, for example.
There are five books in the Torah, five foundational books in the New Testament, and five basic pillars—or beliefs–of Islam. Mayans believe we are now living in the Fifth World. Wiccans maintain there are five elements: earth, fire, wind, water and ether. Discordians argue everything happens in fives or in multiples of fives. Numerologists contend the number five represents a crisis point or a state of instability in the life cycle. And I have religiously published an average of five columns a week since I started this blog on April 16th.
Until this week.
As a few of you have noted with some puzzlement, I’ve been uncharacteristically silent since last Friday, when I posted a tongue-in-cheek column about the impending destruction of the Earth by a rogue asteroid with the impersonal numeric name of 2009 TM8.
My reasons for not putting pen to paper, or perhaps I should say keyboard to screen, have a lot to do with numbers.
The number two is especially significant. That’s how many heart attacks my wife, Kerry, suffered since early Saturday morning, or the seventh day of the 47th week of the 10th month in 2009. The number 200 is also a key number, because that’s how fast Kerry’s heart was beating when she was saved from certain death by emergency-room doctors, who shocked her fluttering heart into a normal rhythm twice in three days using defibrillators each delivering about 600 volts of electricity. Four is the number of hospitals Kerry has transferred to. Seven is the number of tests she’s undergone to determine what’s wrong with her heart. Eleven is the number of doctors and cardiac specialists who’ve consulted on her case, which is very unusual. Fifteen is the total number of hours I slept in six days, shattering a personal record I previously set in college, and, I’d like to point out, in a much more enjoyable way.
If you add all those numbers up, I’m sure you’ll understand why I temporarily went off the grid, and I hope you’ll forgive me for neglecting you. I often thought about writing something to explain what was going on, even if it was brief, and I also considered reading what others are up to help take my mind off my own troubles, but simply couldn’t. My mind was too fogged with fear, anxiety and worry to make sense of words, which aren’t nearly as definitive as numbers.
Today, however, I feel a bit better—and a bit more capable–because Kerry’s situation is looking up.
Kerry will endure two more heart tests tomorrow. If the results confirm the doctors’ current theory about the congenital heart defect that caused her problems, they will perform two complicated procedures on her during open heart surgery sometime in the next three days. And then, they assure us, the odds are very good that she will recover and go on to lead a long and relatively normal life, if that’s possible being married to me.
I don’t like odds, of course. Odds are sets of numbers that trick you into believing chance and probability are definitive, when, in fact, each situation is as unique and as uncertain as your next heartbeat. I’m not a gambling man, and in cases like these, I prefer certainties. I desperately wish the surgeons would tell me that the results of Test 1 and 2 plus Open Heart Procedures 3 and 4 equal a perfect 10 for Kerry. But heart surgeons are more like artists than mathematicians. Their work, like the human heart itself, is a little mysterious and unpredictable.
God is also a little mysterious and unpredictable, but I’ve asked Him to intervene in our little drama on the off chance He’ll take an interest in Kerry’s case and help keep her alive. In the grand scheme of things, I realize there’s no reason why He should. I’ve read that about 155,000 people die every day, often tragically, and their places are quickly taken by 216,000 newborn babies. But I hope He’ll do this thing for us because I’m not sure how our family will survive if Kerry dies. More selfishly, I can’t imagine my life without her.
It’s almost impossible to explain why—words fail me in this matter at this moment—but consider the numbers that help define our lives.
Kerry and I started dating when we were 18 or 19 years old. We got married when we were 20 or 21. We were married for nearly 14 years when we adopted our first daughter, Lindy. We adopted her sister, Rudy, two years later, and our boys, Lance and Gabe, about four years after that. We’ve lived in five apartments, one condominium and three houses. We’ve owned five bicycles and nine cars. We both turned 50 this year, and in August, we celebrated our 29th anniversary and talked about saving up $5,000 to $10,000 to take a trip to Italy in five years once the kids are all grown and out of the house.
The Bible says God cares about numbers, from the number of sparrows that die every day to the number of hairs on each of our heads. So I trust He knows how much the kids and I depend on Kerry to help get us through every day. I trust He knows she’s my best friend. I trust He knows I love her with all my heart and have walked the line all these years because she’s mine, and I trust He knows she loves me, too, even if I don’t always listen to her as attentively or help her out with household chores as much as I should.
But will God hear my prayer?
If He does, will He save Kerry?
There’s no way to know, but I hope so, because although it’s estimated there are 6,615,852,000 human beings on the planet, and 3,291,805,000 of them are women, there is only one woman on Earth for me.
One.
I realize it’s a very small and insignificant number. But to me, it’s the most important number in the world.
Oh my dear friend…words are so insignificant right now, but I want you to know that you’re in my thoughts and prayers and any other form of divine petition I can think of.
Geez, I don’t even know what to say right now. *insert non-cliche words of comfort here* Tell Kerry, and Lance and Gabe and Rudy and Lindy, that some girl in Idaho they’ve never even met is thinking of them, rooting for them, hoping and wishing for them. I know I’m always relieved to know a complete stranger/stalker is on my side.
Your family is very lucky to have you.
Thank you, Lorena, and I’m relieved to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Kerry and I have been telling jokes and laughing throughout this process, baffling the nurses and doctors to no end. I’m glad my kids have the support of a complete stranger/stalker. Everybody needs a stalker to get them through the day.
Wow, dude.
Wishing you the best from here.
That is all.
Hey, I was expecting a good joke. You’re not sick, too, are you?
My thoughts and prayers are with your family now. It sounds as though Kerry is in good hands and we are wishing the best.
Thank you. I hope Kerry’s in good hands. Although it’d make me jealous, I’m sure it’d make this whole process a lot more fun for her.
Oh Mike!
I know the words fall flat, but I am truly sorry to hear of wife’s medical problems.
I’m truly touched by the very intense love you have for her, even after 29 years! That is incredible!
Well done! Well done!
Especially during an era of when the going gets tough, the tough just walk away.
I will definitely keep you and your sweet family in my prayers and I will send good thoughts and vibes your way!
{hugs to you all}
Thanks, Quirky. I don’t think anybody’s ever called my family “sweet” before, so that’s nice that I managed to fool you, even if it was only for a little while. Just help keep the Zombies away from her for a little while longer, OK?
Mike – I have you and Kerry in my prayers. This was a heart wrenching post and I’m so very sorry that your family is enduring this hardship.
Much love,
Naomi
Naomi? Is that you, Red? If so, I’m so glad to hear from you and to know that you’re still reading along, at least once in a while, and even when I’m not being very funny. If it’s not you, then it’s good to know I have a new friend/reader. Either way, that cheers me up no end.
Yup it’s me…Red! I hope things are looking up for you now! Let me know k?
xo
Up is the only direction left to look. I think. Maybe there’s another level below this one and we just haven’t found it yet.
Mike,
I’m so sorry that your family has had this thrown at you. I’m sending healing thoughts your way. Sounds like Kerry is in good hands. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself. You’ll have lots of us thinking about you!
Best,
Paula
Thank you, Cat Lady. And don’t worry. Narcissits like myself–and I think most bloggers are narcissistic–rarely forget to take care of themselves.:)
I am glad to see the blog back, not happy my sister-in-law is so ill. Nothing I can say or do from the Pacific Northwest will ease the pain and boy you must have a stack of laundry. I feel for you brother. And dishes. My prayers go out to both of you and everyone around you who is trying to make life easier right now.
I can just barely see the computer through the piles of laundry and stacks of dishes. And I’d hate to know what I smell like–I had no idea you wear the same pair of jeans seven days in a row without getting an infection.
I really hope everything turns out and your wife pulls through . That must have been one heck of a shock for you all. But it sounds like your love and positive attitude will pull you through. I’m thinking positive thoughts Mike. Take care.
Thanks, NoName. I know your homeland’s got its problems what with being run by evil socialists and all, but I sure wish the Commie Canadians would take over our health care system asap to save me from financial ruin.
Mike, tell Kerry to quit messin’ around and GET WELL! We can’t have such a trivial thing as a heart attack keeping you from posting your hilarious blog.
{Seriously, I will be praying for her and for you and the family. Hang in there and keep the faith. I’m so sorry that you all are going through such a bad time. Keep us updated on her progress.}
I know, Kerry’s such a pain in the ass. One or two little heart attacks and she goes all soft on me. I should’ve traded her in for a better model years ago.
Oh, Mike, I am so so sorry to hear the news of your wife. I will keep you and your family in my prayers. Please keep us updated.
Yeah, I’m not so funny now, am I? In my defense, the tagline for my blog is “Some Things Are Funnier Than Others.”
Thanks for stopping by.
Oh dear! Well I’m very UNoffended by your lack of visiting my blog under these circumstances, and I do hope Kerry is able to recover quickly. She is lucky to have you for support so ((((((cyber hugs)))))) to both of you!
Ohhhh, cyber hugs. That feels naughty!
Mike, that was far more beautifully written than I could have written under any circumstances. If I were going through what you and Kerry are going through I doubt I could have written anything at all.
Best wishes to Kerry and you.
Thank you, Joel. Of the 239 posts I’ve written since April, I’d say five are readable. This was one of them, in my opinion.
Wow! Sorry to hear. I’m sending positive thoughts. Take care.
Thank you. Will the positive thoughts be arriving by regular post or UPS?
Mike – so sorry to hear about Kerry’s health problems. It’s always hard to comment and even harder to have a sense of humor when these types of things are happening. I’ll put some prayers out there for you and your wife and try to be funny in my upcoming posts for you. Of course that would be going against everything I believe in but what the hell – it’s for a good cause. Hang in there!
You damn well better be funny or you’re off the Internet!
Just kidding. Sort of.
Just be funny, OK?
God cares about the number of hairs on our head? He has a very evil sense of humor then.
Mike, I pray for the strength you and Kerry need to endure this and for the ability to take one day at a time. Stats/odds mean squat in medicine. You both gather strength from one another, and that has more power than anything medicine can offer…well, it’s a significant influence, that’s for sure.
I expect to read soon that Kerry sailed through her procedures with the only side effect being a few more gray hairs on your head.
I was thinking the same thing about the hairs on the head, which are getting a little thinner than I like. And then I started wondering: What about the hairs in my nose, or in the regions that shall not be mentioned? Does He count those, too? And who would want this job, anyway?
I’m sorry. How awful. Good luck.
Thank you, Dr. Grumpy. Are you available for consultations? I think Kerry would love to be treated by Dr. Grumpy instead of Dr. Needle, Dr. Doom and Gloom and Dr. Sorry to Wake You Up Again With Bad News.
I wish I could help. But never was good at hearts. That’s why I stuck with brains.
I was never good at hearts, either. Even Go Fish was hard for me. I’ve never played brains. Bet it’s fun, though.
I am so sorry to hear this, Mike. Hang in there.
Hang in there. Or just hang. It can go either way, you know.
Mike,
I am so sorry to hear about Kerry.
What an awesome family you have.
Have faith. I wish I could do more, but know you and your family are in my prayers.
They are awesome. How they got me as a father, I don’t know. Life really screws some people over.
Just checking in to see if there is an update on your wife. Hoping everything is looking a little brighter today.
Thanks, Buggy. I’ll try to post an update tomorrow for and all 12 of my readers.
Mike, here I thought I had it bad being out of work and worrying myself sick and you guys one up me. Life is so not fair. Everything will be fine, Kerry will be well soon and you can go to Italy. I know a joke about vampires in Italy. Too long to post here but it is funny. Take care my friend.
Being out of work sucks. Kerry had just landed a new job about a month ago, and she’s probably lost hers, too. If so, we’ll be bankrupt in about a month. Unless I have a rich uncle who leaves me his estate, of course.
Send me that joke about vampires in Italy. I’ve thought about it, but can’t imagine what the punchline is.
I’m sorry to hear about your wife’s heart troubles. My father had a few heart attacks and eventually a triple bypass surgery…but with good diet, exercise, and lifestyle change he’s doing so much better 4 years later.
I’ll be keeping your wife in mind, and pray she makes a full recovery. Hang in there!
PS-I featured your blog in a recent newspaper article I did. I’ll link you to it once its published.
Stay strong.
Thanks, Tegan. Do send me the link, as I’m curious what caused you to write about my little old blog.
I’ve felt so helpless not being able to talk to you since this happened, so I was glad to read about it in your words. But I can’t remember the last time I cried as hard as I did when I read the last few lines of that post. Love is incredible.
If positive thoughts and prayers can help, you’re getting a boatload from me and have been all week.
Thank you, Lisa. It is a difficult time for me, but your thoughts and words mean a lot to me.
I have something that might cheer you…..check The Screaming Me-Me for some really BIG news!
Check the Screaming Me-Me. That’s funny sounding.
Mike,
I’m so sorry to hear about Kerry. I hope all things go well. Is there anything some old friends can do besides pray? Let us know if there is.
BTW, I’m (still) one of those dumb right wingers and I love your blog!
Love to Kerry.
Liz (and Dan, who is still technologically challenged!)
Prayer is good. Very good. And don’t worry about being a right winger. It’s a condition that usually passes in time, like athlete’s foot or acne.
I hope things are getting better.
Sorry to hear about this.
You’re right about the sparrows and the counting hairs.
Matthew 10:29-31: “Do not two sparrows sell for a coin of small value? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Therefore have no fear: you are worth more than many sparrows.”
Psalms 25:17… “Distresses of my heart have multiplied; From the stresses upon me O bring me out.”
Hang in there.
Do I detect a hint of Christian upbringing? Or do you also have access to Google?
Yes, on both counts.
Me, too.
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Oh Mike…I read it even though I didn’t really want to. My Dad died of a massive heart attack 15 years ago. I was 27 and 7 months pregnant with my 1st child.
…so yeah, I’m not really good with death.
But I admire you so much for writing so openly about this during a time when clearly you were wrought with anxiety and fear.
And it was poetic reading about your emotions.
I am really touched right now.
Thank you, Sandra. I was in a mental fog and panicked when I wrote that column. I recall that it poured out of me like water, all at once, as if a dam had burst. It’s strange to go back and read it now, and I thank you for taking the time to read it yourself.
I’m sorry your father died when you were so young, and about to have a baby yourself. There’s never a good time for somebody close to die, but there are worse times, and you got one of them.
I am equally touched by your words.
Amazing, simply amazing. She must be doing ok now, haven’t heard any bad news since October. When you took off for Yellowstone and didn’t post for a week I feared the worst. Had to ask Linda where you were, I really thought the two of you were related.
Sigh….You know I’m a sucker for real life romance dont you?
God bless you both!
Thanks, Ginger. Kerry’s heart problems have been a real downer, but she seems to be doing better now.