Pookies Troubles: 7

There observing
Posted Oct-04-07 20:38:10 PDT Updated Oct-08-07 16:16:46 PDT
At the foot of my daughter's bed; silently I look around to see her bedmates. I have seen no visitors for them in the passed two days. I notice they are older and in poor shape. Why did their families just give up on them. Had the doctors told them in the deafening still of their plight that there was no hope?
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I pick up her hand that is free from tubes and just feel its texture. How completely disconnected I feel from her at this time. Can she feel me? Does she know that I am there. Her fingers are swollen from IV fluid. I work her fingers gently while humming softly under my breath. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine--------You make me happy when skies are gray."
I feel my song catch in my throat. I sung this song to her as a five year old when she had nightmares and was afraid.
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As I work her fingers. I make a discovery. She has her mother's hands. Where is her mother? We have not heard from her biological mother at all. I wonder if the woman is even caring at this point. She has our numbers at the hotel. We make calls to pass on information. Even on how to contact us. But this point is a small one.
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Once, I have warmed her hands; I start stroking her face. This child means as much to me as the one who grew in my body. I have small flashbacks to her first day of school. Her hand in its chubby smallness enveloped in mine. (I almost start crying but don't.) Our shopping trips, talks, homework, books and times in the kitchen. Her first game of soccer and what an athlete she is. Her first school dance; I helped her dress, hair, nails and makeup.
I am lost in hope and dread tending to her while I hum our song.
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Nothing to do but wait
Posted Oct-08-07 19:07:02 PDT
Pray and continue to live while my daughter is in a coma. We are restricted in our vistation. Foreign hospitals have their own rules and we must abide while getting through this event.
We visit each day at the set visiting hours. Then we spend time driving around the island until the next set of hours. We met wonderful people on San Miguel. A preacher and his family, doctors, nurses, orderlies, hotel staff and still we wait for a sign. She is stable and seems to be asleep.
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I massage her body and move her fingers just to let her feel me.
Hospital, hotel (to hand wash our laundry in the tub), a drive, hospital, grocery shopping, drive, hospital and back to the hotel. We have a routine then comes a change on day eight.
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