The Numbers

Numbers. Do you ever think about them? I've never been a numbers guy. Never gave them much thought one way or another. But over the course of the last 23 days I've learned numbers can literally mean the difference between life and death.
Numbers like 17, 235, 15,12, 160, 87, 65/45, and 23 all became to mean everything in my Granddaughter's world. Emily was born 17 weeks premature on November 12th.and was transferred to room 235 of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Stormont-Vail Hospital. This was also the day my journey through her world of numbers began.
Good morning Emily, I'm your Grandpa. I know, I'm kind of big and ugly. But you'll get used to me. Hey, look at those numbers on the ventilator. The nurses tell me 15 is excellent for your oxygen level. And that the vent setting doesn't get much better than a 12. I know it's been a pretty rough first day for you, so I'm not going to stay too long. You be a good girl and mind the nurses. I'll see you in the morning. And remember that Grandpa loves you.
And so our daily routine began. We talked about all the adventures we were going to have once she got to come home. First and foremost I explained she was going to have to put on some weight. At 1lb., 4oz., it was going to be hard for her to ride a bike. I offered to start bringing her chocolate chip cookies and pop. While Emily thought it was a good idea, the nurses didn't think so. We talked about her first day of school, about the fishing trips we were going to take. She was really excited about going 4-wheeling in the mountains of Colorado.
I told her how lucky she was to have two Grandmothers Linda and Debbie that loved her so much. We talked about all her aunts, uncles, and cousins. I warned her about the stupid cats and dogs she'd meet. I even warned her about staying away from boys. I'm not sure, but I think I saw her blushing after this conversation. But mostly, she liked hearing about her Mommy and Daddy.
Over the next few days I learned about the other numbers on the monitor above her bed. The top one was her heart rate. I learned that 160 was a very good number indeed. And that 87 indicated how much oxygen was in her blood. The 65/45 was the blood pressure.
All day and night long the doctors and nurses watched these numbers. They made adjustments to the machines or medications according to what the numbers told them. They were very up front with us from the beginning. Some days were pretty good. Others were pretty bad, it all depended on the numbers. The nurses referred to this as the roller coaster ride.
Monday December 4th was an exceptionally good day. Her numbers were even better that they had been the previous weekend. She was finally able to open her eyes for the first time. They were the biggest, most beautiful, brown eyes I had ever seen. We talked about riding the train at Gage park. I blew her a kiss, told her Grandpa loved her, and assured her I'd see her in the morning.
Sometime around 9:00 Monday night the hospital called. Emily had taken a turn for the worse, and we needed to get there as soon as we could. It was the numbers, the 15 and 12 had turned into 101 and 40. The 160 was now a 50. The 87 was somewhere around 35 now, and the blood pressure that once read a steady 65/45 wasn't even registering anymore. They told us her system was shutting down, she was dying, and didn't think she'd be able to hang on for much more than 3 or 4 more hours.
While ultimately the numbers got the best of her, she did beat the 3 and the 4. She was able to hang on about another 24 hours. And in doing so we were all able to say our goodbyes. While I'm not sure what others said to her. For me, I held her tiny hand, kissed her on the forehead, told her it was okay if she had to go, and to remember that Grandpa loved her.
There are three more numbers to this story though. We had her with us for 23 days, 4 hours, and 42 minutes. And for that I'll always be grateful.

Emily

I’d love to talk about Paul Morrison and the people he hurt this week. But you know what? He’s not worth the effort. However, I do feel sorry for his wife and kids, they’re the real losers in this whole disgusting fiasco. Yeah Paul, you’re quite a guy.
Actually, I’ve got other things on my mind this week. As everyone knows, Christmas is just around the corner. And like most old guys, I’m already getting that “what do you want for Christmas” question. I usually tell them I want a new motor home and a ranch in the mountains of Colorado. This year is different though. I want something specific this year. I want the same thing Steve’s getting.
Last Monday I was listening to Steve Forman’s “Wake Up Call” on AM 1440 as he was telling a story about a recent phone call he received from his daughter, I think he said she‘s going to school and living in Manhattan. Anyway she wanted to know what he wanted for Christmas. He told her all he wanted was for her to come home for a few days so they could spend time together. Spend a little time looking through a few old pictures and reminiscing about days gone by. And maybe even getting out the old Monopoly game. You know, just being a family and being together. Isn’t that what it’s really about? While I’ll do everything I can think of to not break out the Monopoly game, I’ll gladly whip up on my kids in a good, heated game of Risk. So kids, I want the same thing Steve wants this year and I hope we both get it.
Last week I talked a little bit about some of the things I believe in and some of the things I’ve written about over the past year. But something I haven’t talked much about is why I decided to name this column “Room 235.” I guess I haven’t talked about it because it’s taken this long to be able to. You see, Room 235 was my grand daughter’s hospital room number at Stormont-Vail last December. Emily was born 17 weeks premature. At 1lb. 4oz.,she was tiny and had an uphill battle ahead of her. You know, I really thought she was going to make it too. I actually never really considered the fact that she might not make it. Emily and I had already made plans to go fishing as soon as she was a little bigger. I couldn’t wait to go to her first kindergarten Christmas program. I had already picked out her first bike and promised to teach her to ride it. We read Christmas stories and we sang little songs every day. The night she died, I wanted to die too. I was mad as hell at everyone and everything. More than anything, I was mad at God. How could he allow something like this to happen? Emily was only 23 days old. That’s how I named my column “Room 235. It’s just my way of honoring her memory.
That was a year ago and whether we like it or not, life does go on. Since then I’ve been blessed with two more grandkids, Shawn and Sofie. Add them to Adam and Krista and we have a houseful of kids again. I’m not mad anymore either.
When it comes right down to it. We’re all given a certain amount of time and that’s all we get. It’s up to each one of us to decide how to spend it. This Christmas, do yourself a favor. If at all possible, spend a little of that time with your family or someone you love. If you haven’t spoken to someone for awhile because you’re mad at each other for whatever reason. Call them. Call your mom or dad. Call your brother or sister. What can it hurt? Don’t assume you can call them next year or even next week.
If you don’t mind and if Denise is okay with it. Next week I’d like to re-run the first “Room 235 that ran about this same time last year. It pretty much sums up my feelings at the time. I sincerely hope each and every one of you have a Merry Christmas this year.
Kevin McGinty can be reached at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

Sofie Lin

What’d I tell you? Last week I bet that because my daughter hadn’t had the baby yet, she was going have a girl. Bam! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. I’d like you to meet the latest addition to my family, my granddaughter, Sofie Lin. She weighs in at 6 lbs. 10 ounces. She’s a whopping 19 inches tall, or is that 19 inches long? Anyway, she has all her finger and toes, eyes and ears, and her doctors say she’s as healthy as they come. That’s really all that matters.
I knew the moment I saw her, we were gong to be buddies. But I could also tell she’s going to be a handful. We watched our first Chiefs game together last Sunday against the Chargers. I gotta tell you, she wasn’t impressed. I worry about that because I’m afraid her grandma will be able to sway her to the “dark side.” For some crazy reason, my wife’s a stupid Bronco’s fan. And to think of my poor, innocent, little Sofie siding with her is too much for me to take.
I told her to be patient and explained to her that this is a re-building season, just wait till next year. She said grandma told her I’d say that. Yeah, she’s going to be a handful alright. How about it Chiefs? How about winning a couple of your last few games. And if you can’t win them, it’d be nice if you could at least play a decent game. Don’t do it for me. Do it for Sofie. I can tell she wants to believe me when I say you’re all that, but so far you haven’t given her much to go on. Trust me when I say we don’t need another Bronco’s fan in this family.
Actually, it doesn’t really matter whether the Chiefs win or lose. It’s just an excuse for me to get my family together. Either my wife or I make some kind of a huge meal. We have all the snacks and stuff like that. My brother, Aaron and his two kids, Little Aaron and Lisa are usually the first one’s to show up. My oldest son Lucas, his wife Mandy, and their two kids, Krista and Shawn are usually next. Normally, by half time my daughter, Misty, her husband, Travis, show up with their two kids, Adam and now Sofie will finally get here. To say my house is crowded on Sundays is an understatement. Let’s see, just how many is that anyway? Counting my youngest son, who’s still living at home, my wife and myself, the kids and grandkids it looks like there are 14 of us every weekend. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
It’s funny, it seems like the older I get, the faster time goes by. I doubt anyone other than myself realizes I’ve been writing this column for a year now. I’ve written about a lot of things in the past year. You probably realize by now that I’m a pretty conservative guy. I won’t budge on my pro-life beliefs. I have no use whatsoever for anyone who would hurt a child. I believe a man should take care of his own family and not expect the rest of us to do it for him. I believe a marriage can only be between a man and a woman, period. I believe that if you make a mistake you should accept responsibility for it, learn from it, and move on with your life. Oh yeah, I also believe that people who buy into the global warming scam need to get a life. You cry if someone cuts down a tree so a church can build a parking lot. You whine about “green space” all the time. Here’s what you need to do. Get out of the city. Take a road trip with your wife and kids from time to time. You’ll be amazed at all the “green space” you’re going to find. And no, the planet’s not going to die because you drive your car and use a little gas. It’ll be okay.
Kevin McGinty can be reached at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net