Today has been a day of counting. Well, that's really nothing special. I guess counting's been an inherent activity in all of this. But today I've noticed. Today I've purposely counted.
I've counted the number of days since I last heard your voice: 17.
The number of days you've been in the hospital: 12
The number of hawks I've seen flying over the highway, either on my way to or away from a visit with you: 3
The tenths of degrees that your temperature has dropped today: 6 (from 39.6 to 39.0)
The percentage that your O2 assistance has increased: 20 (from 50% to 70%)
The percentage points your pulse ox has increased: 4 (from 93 to 97)
The number of your nurses I've met so far: 8
The number of your doctors I've met so far: 2
The number of steps I take from the double doors of the BICU to your room: 40
The number of gloves I go through in a visit: 4 (Sorry. They'll probably bill you for those, huh?)
The number of people who read this blog, keenly interested in your recovery: 191
One hundred and ninety-one people.
I imagine some of them know you, some do not. Most of them are probably your dear friends. And some are mine, some are Dixie's, Asia's, Forrest's, Colleen's, Mom's, Tricia's, Lee's... They all care about how you're faring. They are sending you the love, prayers, hope, belief, strength that you'll need in order to get through this.
I keep thinking there'll be a point when I'll feel silly for having worried so much about you. When it will seem, looking back over these days, that it was so obvious that you were going to get better. I long for that moment.
I hope I don't sound too depressive. You are going to get better. I believe that. It's just that, right now, as I close my eyes and picture your crooked smile, or the way your eyes squint hard when something has touched you deeply and you're about to cry, or the expression on your face when you're describing a delicious meal you ate (or a striking woman you saw. Yep. Same face.), I just miss you so much and the fact that there's any risk at all that I won't get to see all of this again just makes me climb the walls.
You are right here, with us, and for that I am so glad. (Grateful is the word, but I don't want to continue using it, for fear I'll lose bearings on the meaning.) You are right here with us, Daddy, but oh, how I miss you.
Dear Lungs,
Thank you for your heroic efforts these last twelve days.
You took the biggest hit, we know.
And it's nothing short of sheer selfishness on our part,
totally rude, in fact, of us to ask you,
out of all the organs in that body,
to be doing the lion's share of the work.
Rude, indeed.
But ask you we must. Beg you, even.
To work.
In.
Out.
Expand.
Contract.
Absorb.
Transfer.
Breathe.
Exhale.
Alveolar miracles.
That's what we're asking for.
Yours truly,
One hundred and ninety one people
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8 comments:
This is David Smith here.......Mike and I are friends from the wild and somewhat reckless days of College and Youth. Guess I'm part of the 191. We have remained good friends over the years and I cannot begin to tell you how deeply this all has touched me. I Pray for healing and strength for my old and Good Friend and his family thru out the day. I have called for all the help in these Prayers that I can bring to bear. The Circles of Prayer are widening and please know that there are MANY MANY more than 191 of us who are VERY concerned and with you in this struggle. May God Bless you and hold Mike in His Healing Light.
Dave Smith neongloguy@aol.com
Things come full circle….I’ve known Mike since we were young lovers in high school. He lives right around the corner from where I lived when we first met. Over the years we’ve helped each other through many losses—loss of innocence, loss of love, loss of jobs, loss of hope.
At one bleak point in my life, I decided I was unworthy of love or redemption. I decided the kindest act I could do for humankind was to remove myself from this physical realm. I had a plan. It was a good one: go to a movie, take squirreled-away narcotics, and gently fall into the sleepless slumber of death and oblivion. On my way to the theater, I drove by Mike’s house to share my plan with him so someone would know why I was where they would eventually find me.
Mike agreed it was a good plan and stated that he fully understood and accepted my decision to end my life. He always has been there for me! BUT he just had a couple of questions. First he asked me “How old was I when I got it together and really knew where I was going in life?” We were sitting in his driveway under the shade of the magnolia tree in the front yard. Mike’s chair was tipped back against the garage wall. I looked around his place and thought, “Are you shitting me?” Then being the great friend that I am said, “I don’t know….25-30.” With that silly shit-eating grin of his, Mike replied, “Exactly…..all I’m saying is it’s ok if you off yourself. I’ll totally support you. But then you won’t be around when Jacob and Zach are old enough to get it. You won’t be there to say ‘I told you so.’”
I sat there stewing for a few minutes and then I shot him the finger….bastard had hit exactly the right thing to nail me. So I owe my life to Mike.
Because things do come full circle, now I’m showering you, Miquelito, with healing love and light. Don’t you dare give up this fight. You hang in there and tell those damn lungs of yours to clean all that crap out and get busy doing what they’re supposed to do.
Blessings and love,
Robin
PS I didn’t even have to wait 10 or so years for my kids to get it…your kids, family, and friends get you too, Mike. Right now…come back quick so we can all tell you so.
191 I believe I'm in that group. I have known Mike for a long time. My first encounter was driving through Riverside. I saw this "White" man running around with some kids chasing a soccer ball. My oldest son Sebastian who is one year older than Forrest and two years younger than Asia was with me. He say's mom let's stop and watch a minute.
Well needless to say that day changed our lives forever. Mike has been a coach and friend but more importantly a father figure that my kids have not had from there own father.
The Circle of Love comes together at times when we most need someone. I do not have to explain the circumstances that have changed our lives. Those close to the Hinshaw family will understand.
When we received the call on that Saturday night. Tricia and I bolted over to Honeysuckle not knowing what we were going to find. Mike know that we are praying for you. Many of my ladies at work have you in their prayer circles. Hang in there COACH. Love from all the Gomez's kids
We're reading it while here in southern Cali too; y'all are never far from our hearts and minds. We'll be home next week; love love love to you all, Rosalynn, Jo & Nik
Dear Team Hinshaw:
I do believe there is power in
concentrated love when it comes to healing.
Last night I woke up around three a.m. with a toothache. I thought, dang this hurts. Then I took a pain pill and thought about Mike and my sister in another hospital, both in pain--and another friend in rehab after heart surgery--he's in pain too. Then there's a friend
going through a painful divorce.
So much pain.
Easy stuff my pain. Their pain,
not so easy. Time to cowboy up and buck the pain. Hang in there, ya'll! As I write this, my toothache is not as bad as it was.
And pain shared is always diminished.
xoxoMelissa
There are so many more than the 191.. Like a pebble thrown in still water, the ripples go on an on.
There are still many who don't have ready access to the internet, so they can't log on daily to monitor.. but the word is still spreading and the healing energy is building.
Come on Mikey, we need you.. And aren't you going to have one hell of a story to share at the next Skippy's reunion?
Heal quickly my friend!
Sherry
GerRee, this one made me teary, and I had a conversation with your father's lungs as well. They were quite amenable to doing this job and taking on the act of heroism. Of course, they are far too modest to consider it as such. "No, really, " they said, "we don't consider ourselves heros. We just did what anyone under the same circumstances woud have done. We've been well-trained to do this. It's our job and we're hapy to do it."
Mike, really your lungs are such nice guys. I trust you'll be awake soon enough to tell them that yourself.
Thinking of your whole sweet family,
Be well to all of you,
Lindsey Pierce
Mike,
Hang in there "daddy"! you are the only father of a friend of mine that I called "daddy".
Asia has been one of my best friends, she was always there for me through high school, and stood right beside me at my wedding... without you, I wouldn't of had the amazing friendship I have with her.
We spent many days and nights at your house and you always either had something funny to tell us or wanted to put your 2 cents worth in.
My family and I have been praying for you and we will continue to pray for a full recovery.
Love you, Mike,
Your other daughter, Amy
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