We succeeded on our part...

I am happy to announce that we successfully got Kerry's grandma here Thursday night. Her flight came in around 7:30 pm and the family was brought to tears when they saw her. I can't begin to tell you how happy I was. It was a conclusion to the countless hours of work we put in to get the family the support they needed at the hospital and at home.

"A Girls Night Out Limo" sent a car to pick up the family so they could meet grandma at the airport. Dan Stewart donated his time to drive the car for the family. None of the occupants had ever been in such a vehicle and it was special to see them get there in comfort and style. I was invited to ride but opted to follow in my car. I wanted them to be at ease and at peace.

We also started construction on their kitchen Thursday. To say I started the construction would be an absolute lie, I'm not engineered or skilled to do any kind of construction but found resources to help. Christina Jasso, who has become such an important part of the Magana family, got her husband to do the tile, plumbing, and electrical work. The Jasso's are awesome.

Laton Crane, the owner of Calloway Construction, was kind enough to hang the cabinets at the last minute for me. Ed Woods, an electrician and parent of a cancer survivor, has also agreed to go to the house to hang new lighting fixtures. We just need a person to glue the granite tops and cut a hole for the kitchen sink in the granite. So if any of you know anyone who does that kind of work please let me know. My Thursday was very busy. I rounded up construction crews, gave a speech, and ended my day at the airport. It was one of the most fulfilling days I've ever had.

The kindness from everyone has been rewarding to me. It has renewed my faith in other people. Seriously, I have to say that I would have probably not noticed the kind acts nor would I participate in such kindness if not for the sickness. I feel comfortable to say that I was self absorbed before this illness. In the past I would have given you a ride to the hospital if you needed it but would have driven off at the first opportunity. Today I'd walk you in, wait with you, and make you comfortable! Things have a way of changing you.

I titled this "We succeeded in our part..." now it's left in God's hands. Say a prayer for this tough child.

Thank you KMBC 9...

Grandma: Part 3 The Conclusion

Kerry's grandma finally received a green light from the U.S. to enter the country. We have been told that all the paper work is done and waiting for her at the U.S. Consulate in Honduras. We are grateful. It took some time but it appears that it worked out, we just need to get her here quickly. Kerry isn't doing so well.

Kerry has been on a ventilator and her situation hasn't improved. The doctors told Claudia that she needs to get better soon or problems could occur. So I ask everyone to say a prayer for this young girl. I went to see her today and she is sick. He poor little body is so swollen. I hardly recognized her. A drastic change from last week. I wish I would have taken a picture with here months ago when she was feeling healthy. I'll just wait until she gets healthy again I guess. My connection with the family is solid and I feel they appreciate me and the effort I've put into helping them get their grandmother/mother here.

It must have been in March or April when Claudia told me she needed help. That was when I decided I would try to help Claudia bring her mother here from Honduras. It sounded easy but the reality is there's so many laws, rules, and regulations that getting anything done is a toss up. Although I tapped resources and worked hard for the family, it was Christina Jasso who did the paper work and followed up. It would have never happened if it wasn't for Jasso.

Today I went by First Watch and grabbed Claudia a cheese omelet, sausage, and a biscuit. When I arrived at CMH the waiting room was packed. Kerry's family and friends were gathered there. Christina Jasso was taking one person at a time back to Kerry's room. She was giving Claudia a break. Her kindness is so inspiring. I think she has to be tired too. This fight has consumed her and she's become attached to Kerry and the family.

The best advice I could give anyone who might face a tough battle with sickness is find the good in the situation. This journey with Kerry has opened my eyes to the random kindness of strangers. The outpouring of support from people who have never met her is unbelievable. The experience has renewed my faith in my fellow man/woman. I was blessed with the opportunity to see good things happen in the midst of an ugly thing called cancer.

I'm done writing about Kerry and her family. It's time for them to move forward privately. My objective was to get a Visa for the grandmother and it looks like we may have succeeded. Since I'm done with my part I am going to concentrate on my family now. For those of you who wonder why I've been writing so much about the family, it was because they needed their story told so others would intervene and help at this desperate time. It worked. I hope that Kerry wins her battle and I encourage everyone to say a prayer for this beautiful child.

Not alone anymore...

I want to tell everyone that Kerry Magana is getting assisted in the Visa campaign from Ted Kennedy and his office. It seems that Mr. Kennedy is part of an oversight committee that monitors immigration issues and this is one of the things, Kerry's situation, that they can help cut through the bureaucratic red tape and intervene. Thank you Mr. Kennedy.

The things that have happened since all this started have been incredible. The outpouring of support has been overwhelming. The person responsible is Christina Jasso from the Guadalupe Center in KC. She took this case on as any other but has moved from a social worker to become part of the Magana family. I joke with her almost daily that if ever become sick or in need of an advocate that she's my girl.

Christina stays at the hospital when she needs to. She delivers food and support daily. I'm sure her family has considered posting her picture on milk containers because she is always helping this family in moments of crisis. Recently there has been many moments.

I believe that it's a blessing when one gets to see acts of kindness first hand. This has truly been a blessing to me. We go through life so often consumed with our own world and seldom take up the cause of our fellow human beings. This is unfortunate because there are so many of our neighbors who need help, not just a handout. I have had my share of downs and I have been lucky to have the right people or person come to my rescue.

So this weekend, this month, or this year I ask you to keep an eye open for someone who needs your help. It might be someone fighting cancer, someone laid off from a job who needs some networking, or a neighbor that needs a ride to work to feed his or her family. For me it was a family battling sickness alone that put me in the mode. Alone. No one should have to do it alone. I have enough resources for the both of us.

This situation has been a growing experience for me. It has led me to new people, new door steps, and a new way of thinking. I encourage everyone to step out of that comfort zone, that routine and experience the incredible feeling you get when you make a difference. I can't say what will happen with this case, but I do know that this mother of a very sick child is not alone anymore. That might be her blessing, knowing she's not alone anymore!

Red tape ties up Honduran grandmother’s attempt to visit teen with cancer

By MARY SANCHEZ
The Kansas City Star

If Jenesis Magana could cure cancer, she most surely would.
She’d take her background as a Kauffman scholar, her fascination with biology, her dedication to the robotics squad and figure out a thing or two. For now, though, she’s marching her tiny frame through the curvy corridors of Children’s Mercy Hospital.
Her older sister, 15-year-old Kerry Magana, is lying sedated on a ventilator in the intensive care unit. Kerry has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Her body is rejecting the bone marrow doctors injected in September.
And Jenesis is angry. At anyone or anything having to do with her sister’s illness. She even questions medical procedures done or not done.
“I watch those TV shows,” Jenesis says. “There is always one doctor who ” disagrees with all the others and says, ‘No, I think it is this.’
Jenesis makes the remark as a statement. But it is a plea. Where is that magic doctor who will save her sister’s life?
I have no words to explain that her sister’s cancer may not be stopped, no matter how brilliant the doctor. She knows anyway.
Jenesis understands a lot for a 13-year-old. She knows why I’m there, the newspaper lady her mother, social workers and a family friend were told to call because their best bet for getting her grandmother here from Honduras is to embarrass the government into doing the right thing.
This part makes no sense to Jenesis. Or me.

Staffers with Rep. Emanuel Cleaver and Sen. Kit Bond, a public policy official with the National Council of La Raza, even connections inside the highest levels of the Department of Homeland Security — all said they would try to help. Ultimately, everyone offered the same advice: Get a splashy newspaper story done.

Kerry and Jenesis’ mother was born in Honduras and is now a legal permanent resident of the U.S. She has repeatedly applied for a visitor’s visa so her mother can come help the family, the last time with the help of a local immigration attorney. The doctors at the hospital and social workers have written letters of support to the U.S. Embassy in Honduras.

The U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services has told her that the grandmother didn’t have enough money in her bank account, then that she had too much, another time she was told she had reapplied too soon after a denial. The last time she was turned away without an explanation.
“I want my mother to see her grandchild while she is still alive,” Claudia Cabrera says, in a rare moment of raising her voice. “What do they want, her to die first?”

A single mother, twice widowed, Cabrera is exhausted and anemic. She has passed out twice at the hospital where her daughter has been since Aug. 25.

Nightly she covers herself in a long yellow sterile gown, plastic gloves and a mask to tend to her daughter, changing bedclothes and diapers regularly because of the extreme diarrhea, keeping Kerry’s open sores covered with ointment, begging her to stop fighting the ventilator.

Needless to say, I believe in the power of the printed word. And government bureaucracy is nothing new. Nor are backlogs and the complicated workings of the nation’s immigration procedures. If something is wrong with the visa application, the family needs to be told.

Ridicule by media should not be necessary to restart government cogs. That’s offensive when the issue is bureaucratic. It’s cruel when a young girl’s life may be ending.

When she rises to anger about her situation, Cabrera believes if she were wealthy, she would be able to secure the visa.

Well-placed connections have not helped. Michael Quijas befriended the family after meeting them through his daughter, who was diagnosed with the same type of cancer but is in remission now.

Quijas graduated from Shawnee Mission North High School at the same time as Julie Myers, now head of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. He has tried to call her office, seeking advice or intervention.

“It’s so frustrating because we’ve tried everything,” he said.

Quijas is among those told that multiple stories done by Kansas City Hispanic News were nice, but not enough. Not even the segments by KMBC-TV reporter Maria Antonia would do the trick. Quijas helped package the stories, along with photos from Kerry’s 15th birthday quinceanera by the Dream Factory, to send along with medical documentation and hundreds of dollars in fees for the latest application — an expedited visa.

The U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services says such a visa “usually takes 90 to 120 days from the date of this receipt for us to process this type of case.”

So, at a time when most children her age are being tucked into bed, Jenesis is pacing the halls with me, unloading her frustration. Upstairs, her mother is curled into a ball, sobbing. She has just been told that the ventilator isn’t helping the way doctors had hoped.

Earlier, her mother had taken a pink cell phone from her bag. She tried to show that day’s photo of Kerry to Jenesis, a visual update on her sister’s condition.

Jenesis sharply turned her head away, buried her face under the crook of her arm and began to cry. She hasn’t entered Kerry’s room for a week.

And she doesn’t need a photo to understand what is happening.