For the past 14 days, my son Jose has been in the ICU at Memorial Hospital, and every day has been a battle. Last Tuesday, we faced another tough turn in his journey when he was transferred to
Keck Medicine of USC in Los Angeles for more specialized care. The situation is dire. Jose has been diagnosed with both the flu and COVID-19, and his lungs have suffered severe damage as a result. The doctors made the decision to place him on an ECMO machine, a life-support device that is now the only thing keeping him alive.
ECMO, or Extracorporeal Membrane Oxygenation, is a device that temporarily takes over the function of the heart or lungs. In Jose’s case, it is doing the work of his lungs. The machine’s oxygenator acts as an artificial lung, adding oxygen to the blood and removing carbon dioxide. This process allows Jose’s lungs to rest, as they are too sick to function properly on their own. By allowing the lungs time to heal, ECMO is giving him a fighting chance, but it’s not a permanent solution. It’s just a lifeline until his lungs are strong enough to work again on their own.
Yesterday, I received a call from Jose’s caseworker that no parent ever wants to hear. She asked me if I would consider a lung transplant for my son if the ECMO machine didn’t work and his condition continued to worsen. She explained that while he wasn’t a candidate yet, they wanted to prepare the paperwork and begin the necessary blood work and tests in case a transplant becomes necessary. That was a moment that took my breath away, but as a mother, I know that I would do anything to save my son. I told her I was open to whatever it takes to give him a fighting chance.
Despite the overwhelming news, there is a small glimmer of hope. Yesterday, the hospital started physical therapy for Jose. The hospital bed they had for him wasn’t suitable for the physical therapy, so they ordered a new one, which arrived today. I called the hospital to ask how his therapy went, and they told me he did well. That’s a small victory, a sign that he is still fighting, still pushing through despite the immense difficulty of what he is facing.
His doctor has made it clear that the road ahead is long. Recovery is not going to be quick, and we are all aware that the coming days, weeks, and perhaps even months will be filled with uncertainty. But I hold onto hope. I hold onto the belief that God is watching over my son, and I trust that He will guide the hands of the doctors and give Jose the strength to recover.
To my friends and family, I ask for your continued prayers and support. Please keep my son in your thoughts, that he may heal, that his lungs may recover, and that he may be able to come home to his family where he belongs. Every prayer, every word of encouragement, means the world to us right now.
As a mother, there is nothing more painful than watching your child fight for their life. But I am grateful for the care Jose is receiving and for the unwavering support from all of you. It is your love and prayers that help me hold on, that give me the strength to keep going every single day.
The journey is not over, and the road is still long, but I have faith that God will carry us through. I find strength in Isaiah 41:10, which says, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” I cling to this promise, knowing that we are not alone in this.
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all the love, prayers, and support you have given us. It is more appreciated than words can express. Please continue to pray for Jose, for healing, for peace, and for his safe recovery.
We are grateful for each and every one of you who has stood by us. Your love means the world to us, and with your continued support, we will get through this together.
Thank you, and please keep Jose in your prayers. 💙