The bastards can be pretty damn cruel. My cousin flew in from Louisiana last night. My mother and I were very nervous to see him and I was very unsure on how to respond to his condition. He drove sixteen hours to El Paso, Texas and then took a plane out to California. Exhausted, but restless and preoccupied with the message he was going to receive. We were to transport him to the Children's Hospital in Orange County where his beautiful daughter, seven year old Isabella would be. I could see the anxiety and pain in his eyes as I sadly attempting to strike up conversation. Jab the Jab. Successful, for only a few moments.
Isabella was diagnosed with Bacterial Meningitis. A bastard of an illness. My cousin had been separated from Bella and his two younger boys for about six months. He was now returning due to awful circumstances. We arrive to the hospital, go up six floors, each floor my cousin's breathing getting heavier and heavier. Fighting back tears. Looking anywhere, but at us.
We enter the room and there she is. Helpless. Machines buzzing, ticking, beeping. Artie rushes to her side. Demanding for her to wake up. Such a difficult thing to watch. He's crying. First time I've seen him in this condition. A wreck. Bella, get up mama. Come on. Let's go, he says. Beep, beep, beep. The nurse walks in. Very kind. Greets us and introduces herself. My cousin does his best to seem calm and collected as he wipes away the tears. She tells us she is only checking her temperature and tells us the doctor would be in shortly to explain all the machines and Bella's condition. She eventually begins to describe each one briefly.
Soon after the doctor comes in, she lays it all out. Describes how it is that Bella came into the hospital's care. Artie breaks down. She tells him Bella will not ever be the same if she wakes up from this coma. She is heavily medicated. Unable to breath on her own. Has a tube inserted in her head. Tubes and I.V.'s running in and out of her body. Helpless. just lying there. Eyes closed. Still. She has had a series of seizures. The girl has been through so much at only seven years of age. The doctor makes her last remark clear and repeats it quite a few times. Her condition is very critical, the likeliness of her coming out of this is very low. Even if she does, she will be severely disabled and at a severe vegetative state. My cousin, head down, tears running. No response.
She walks out. We are left to watch my cousin crumble. It's as if all the glass windows were shattering around us, the building was collapsing. Darkness. He wanted out. My mother and I jump to his side. You gotta' stay strong Artie, you gotta stay strong. For your little girl and your boys Artie, my mom tells him. Artie only able to let out gasps of air. My father walks him down the hall. My mother and I rush to 'Bella's side. You gotta wake up mija, you gotta wake up for your daddy Bella, my mom says. Isabella, beat the odds chiquita, prove them wrong. A little progress each day baby, I say.
Today my cousin, my mother, and I are scheduled to meet with Social Services. My cousin reunited with his boys after speaking with the social worker privately. Anxiety is high for him, he knows his ex, the mother of his children, and her family will be here shortly. This meeting is to discuss the safety issue and lack of parental stability for cousin's children. My mother and I were there in support of my cousin and to request custody of the children.
This meeting was quite the disaster. The information about this case was so complex. Drug use around the children, severely hospitalized child, violence among the parents, mental instability, conflict. The children stuck in the middle of all this complexity. Anger, stress, sadness all filled the room. The meeting lasted a little over two hours. Only to conclude that there was lots and lots of family support, tons of people who needed to be finger printed (which was a three day process) to see if they were clear to look after the children, the parents were unfit to take care of the children, the children would be in foster care for three days, and the custody of the children would be determined on Friday at the court hearing.
Decisions are made, consequences are faced. Things fall into place because of the experiences that lead up to them. Looking back, you see this. But in the moment, its all a blur. All you really see is red. There is panic, what determines the future is whether you can take action to make improvements. The damage has already occurred, we only can attempt to improve it by our present behavior and the decisions we make.
Its not always rainbows and sunshine.
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