Hatem was initially in Kaiser emergency for almost a full day. He was admitted into Intensive Care and the staff began monitoring him. He was conscious, but was focussed only on one thing, getting a cup of coffee. He really didn't know where he was or why he couldn't get a cup of coffee. After that he was placed in a medically induced coma to assess the damage to his head and brain. It wasn't good.
He was at Kaiser for a couple of days before he was transferred to UCSF Medical Center on Parnassus in San Francisco where the best care could be given. Before his transfer, I got wind that he had only six months to live. It was heartbreaking news. And it was given without compassion by a doctor who seemed to care more about the correctness of his diagnosis than the feelings of the people who cared for Hatem. And there were many who cared about Hatem. People came in and out of his room continuously. I was there every morning and left every early afternoon.
Since I was now teaching in a dance studio above Thom's Natural Foods on Geary, I naturally left all the restaurant business to someone I thought I could trust -- Samar and Gabriela. They had been running the place since 2004, so I naturally thought they could run it without Hatem. But as the days wore on, I began to question that judgment. Nevertheless, I ignored all of those red flags and allowed Samar to take control.
"This is a blessing in disguise!", Samar would say again and again. "That man put me through hell. I'm glad he isn't here any more! He would just be in my way of me wanting to run the place."
A blessing in disguise. . . . . .
What was that? Hatem was laid up in the hospital with a life-threatening brain contusion and to Samar it was a blessing in disguise. But, because I had lost all connections with the restaurant after leaving it in 2003 to pursue my teaching, I kept my mouth shut. I didn't have enough information to make any decisions at that time.
Hatem lay in the hospital for close to six weeks. Samar ran the restaurant with Gabriela. I continued to teach dance at the studio location. My home in San Bruno, left to me by my mother, was mortgaged to the max. I wasn't seeing any income now. I knew that something was not right. Hatem was out of the picture for the time being and I began to get a feeling of uneasiness.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
10. Confusion
The next few weeks were filled with confusion and chaos. I had no clue what had occurred during the two-year's time I was not at the restaurant, and I could never have fathomed what was to be in store for me after. What I did know was the Hatem, my pillar of strength, my sole support, was in the hospital now in an induced coma.
During this time, I drove out to the place where Hatem was found. The story was that he had been driven to his house in the Sunset by one of his closest friends, had been dropped off at the foot of his home staircase which comprised of 16 stairs steps, and was left with a friendly 'see-you-tomorrow' goodbye. Hatem had been drinking and never drove anyway, so he had been in good hands. I climbed the stairs and noticed blood stains about half way up the stairs. Hatem's wife had told me how she had found him at the bottom of the stairs very disoriented. What she had concluded by those blood stains was that Hatem had climbed the stairs initially and had lost his footing. He had fallen all the way down 16 hard concrete steps, and had most likely hit his head on the sidewalk at the end of his wall. with a bleeding head, Hatem had tried to climb the stairs again and had fallen back again. He wife, concerned that he had not come home, had gotten up from bed and had ventured out of the house in the night. Sh had found him around 2:00 in the morning at the foot of the stairs lying on the sidewalk.
The horror of this story had sent shocks of adrenaline throughout my veins, and seeing the evidence in front of me now brought up a flood of tears. Guilt began to override the shocks, and I sat down and cried. How could this have happened to this person who had done nothing but good to everyone he came into contact with? Just the night before his accident, he has called me. Why had this had to happen?
Friends and family came and went, watching Hatem struggle through his induced coma made so that his brain could heal. It had taken a beating and we didn't know what kind of damage it may have done. We played a waiting game.
During this time, I drove out to the place where Hatem was found. The story was that he had been driven to his house in the Sunset by one of his closest friends, had been dropped off at the foot of his home staircase which comprised of 16 stairs steps, and was left with a friendly 'see-you-tomorrow' goodbye. Hatem had been drinking and never drove anyway, so he had been in good hands. I climbed the stairs and noticed blood stains about half way up the stairs. Hatem's wife had told me how she had found him at the bottom of the stairs very disoriented. What she had concluded by those blood stains was that Hatem had climbed the stairs initially and had lost his footing. He had fallen all the way down 16 hard concrete steps, and had most likely hit his head on the sidewalk at the end of his wall. with a bleeding head, Hatem had tried to climb the stairs again and had fallen back again. He wife, concerned that he had not come home, had gotten up from bed and had ventured out of the house in the night. Sh had found him around 2:00 in the morning at the foot of the stairs lying on the sidewalk.
The horror of this story had sent shocks of adrenaline throughout my veins, and seeing the evidence in front of me now brought up a flood of tears. Guilt began to override the shocks, and I sat down and cried. How could this have happened to this person who had done nothing but good to everyone he came into contact with? Just the night before his accident, he has called me. Why had this had to happen?
Friends and family came and went, watching Hatem struggle through his induced coma made so that his brain could heal. It had taken a beating and we didn't know what kind of damage it may have done. We played a waiting game.
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