What Happened - and How

My dear and loving Mamma died suddenly, just before Mother’s Day. Shortly after came my Birthday, on June 6th, which was my first without her. The present she had for me was still on her desk, at home – unwrapped, waiting for her to return, to wrap it, and put on the stickers she had ready – like always – saying: “To Victor, from your loving Mamma. Happy Birthday!”

This all crushed me beyond belief – especially since her death was so totally unexpected, and so sudden. What is even more sad is that her death was so totally preventable. She died as a result of Nursing Home Neglect, and Medical malpractice.

She left me a voice mail message that Friday morning, at 11:20 AM, saying how she’s been pressing the Emergency Call button for the Nurse, and no one came. She was in distress, and was getting desperate for help, so she called me. I wasn’t there to pick up the phone, and by the time I got the message just after 12 noon, she was already dead. She died just 20 minutes after leaving me that voice mail.

And the reason why she died is because for the next 20 minutes – from the time she left me the voice mail to the time that the Nursing Home Staff finally found her – she died, because no one came to give her help when she was calling for the Nurse. It was an Emergency Call, but those “nurses” ignored it, and simply let her die.

Had they responded immediately – like they should have – my Mom would still be alive today. All they had to do is give her oxygen, respirate her, and help drain the fluid from her lungs. All this could have been done if they got to her immediately, and in time – instead of letting her sit there and suffer for 20 minutes, until she could no longer live, and her heart just gave out. It was Murder by neglect, plain and simple!

And that’s what’s really hurting me. Had I answered the phone, and heard her plea, I would have called the Nurses Station immediately, and got her the help she needed. But I didn’t get that call, and the message, until it was too late.

But the fault lies squarely with the Nursing Home, and their total lack of care for my Mom. They just ignored her calls, and let her die – all alone, on a cold floor, with no one there to give her comfort and the love she so richly deserved.

I should have been there, that week, to help her. But I wasn’t. It never occurred to me that she would die so suddenly, or that she was in that much distress – and that this Nursing Home was such a disaster. I’ll never, ever, forgive myself for letting this beautiful and loving human being die so horribly.

The only way I can help now, is to see to it that she gets Justice. As I said above, if you can help, please visit the Go Fund Me page at this link: https://www.gofundme.com/justiceforgina

Please share this story, and the link, however you can. Thank you.

To honor my Mom – who was so proud of me, and of my accomplishments, however small – I want to tell you more about her, and our lives together. So, here is a brief outline of her life.

The Life of my Mom, Gina

We are from Central Europe, the part that was the Austrian Empire in the 19th century, under the then Emperor, Franz Joseph – in what was then the country of Czechoslovakia. Her name: Jirinka, translates to: Gina, in English, but the literal translation is the name of my Mom’s favorite flower, the Carnation.

Born in what was then Czechoslovakia, now the Czech Republic, Gina became the first woman in that country to graduate with an MBA. After World War II, she became an associate at the Academy for Arts and Sciences, and worked on one of the first Computers that was able to do single-entry accounting. Later, she became an Internal Auditor for the Social Services Department of the Government. 

Opposed to the Communist rule of Czechoslovakia at the time, Gina refused to join the Communist Party, and as punishment was fired from her position, and forced to work as a scrub-woman, cleaning the stairs in apartment and office buildings.

Later, she was forced from that position as well, and made to work as a coal-shoveler in a boiler room. She stood her ground, refused to join the Communists, and suffered greatly as a result.

In 1969, following the Soviet Invasion of Czechoslovakia in August the previous year, 1968, Gina took her only Son, Victor, then 14 years old, and escaped across the border to Austria.

With nothing but the clothes on their backs, a few slices of bread and two eggs in Victor’s coat pockets, she took her Son to freedom, so he would have a chance to grow up free.

Speaking seven languages fluently, Gina soon found work in Vienna, Austria, at the United Nations. A few months later, she was granted a “Special Czech Refugee” status by the United States Consulate.

Gina was a widow, and raised her Son by herself, as a single mother, at a time when such women were looked upon as somehow flawed. But she was strong, and never faltered. She was highly intelligent, resourceful, and full of life and confidence.

Gina was an incredibly dedicated mother. In 1965, Gina’s son Victor was in a devastating auto accident which confined him to the Hospital for two years, and Gina cared for him tirelessly and selflessly.

Even as recently as a few weeks before she died, she always loved her son, and was willing to help him each day, to listen, and to offer guidance, regardless of how sick she was.

She loved her son more than her own life, and to her last breath gave all of herself for him. Her last message to him – on his voice mail the night before she died – said how she loved him, and how she was grateful for all that he was doing to help her in her time of sickness.

Gina is survived by her only son Victor, who will continue to write, to compose music, and to live – in honor of Gina, to give her the legacy for which she sacrificed so much.

Victor loves his mother very much, and will be eternally grateful for everything his mother did for him, and gave to him.

Photos from Gina’s Life

Wedding Day, 1954. My Mom and Dad - Happy, at the time.

Happy Birthday! My Mom turns 50.

Happy Birthday, February 2017. My Mom turns 96.

She died just a few weeks later.

"I never had a balloon!" She said, smiling.

She was so happy to have it.

My Mom was proud of my latest book - at the time. She said: "Oh, Victor! This book is wonderful!" She was very happy to have it.

Sadly, she will never see the new ones I've written since. I wish she could.

Saddest trip ever.

On my way to identify my Mom's body.

I cried all the way, and still do, every day.

I can't bear to be without this loving human being.

A Story from my Mom’s life, before I was born.

My Mom lived under Nazi Occupation for 8 years – from 1938 to 1945 – and then under Communist Rule from 1948 to 1969.

We escaped the Communists on February 28, 1969, which was my Mom’s Birthday. She once said to me that she did this because she wanted to give us both the Birthday Present of Freedom.

But it was her formative experience under Nazi Occupation which provided her with both courage, and fear. She told me this story just 8 months before she died:

In June of 1942, when she was 21 years old, my Mom and two of her friends were walking along a country road, after having visited some friends in a nearby village.

As they were walking, they suddenly saw a large column of German vehicles, tanks, transports, and lots of soldiers, including an SS detachment – those in the Black, she said.

She and her friends immediately saw the danger, and quickly slipped down the side of the road, into a shallow ditch, and hid behind a shrub that was just large enough to shield them from being seen from the road, as the trucks and tanks and soldiers passed by. She told me that this was a frightening experience, and one she never quite got over.

Later, she was shocked to learn that this column of Nazis was on its way to the village of Lidice, where they had just been. This was the village that was exterminated and raised to the ground by the Nazis as retaliation for the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich in May that year.

This is me, in happier times.

Taken at the Gaming Convention in Las Vegas in 2010, this was my Mom's favorite picture of me.

I am wearing the suit she bought me, the tie she picked out for me, and gave me for my Birthday, and also the shirt.

She always looked after me, and I miss her council, her voice, and her presence more than I can say, or bear.

Had my Mom, and her friends, been seen by that column of soldiers, she, too, would have been instantly killed. She escaped that fate by sheer luck, and that she and her friends saw the soldiers in time, and happened to be on a stretch of that road where there was a ditch, and that shrub.

After she told me that story, she was very sad, and later told me how this frightened her. After that experience she was always wary of letting anyone know anything about herself, and her family.

Even long after the war was over, and long after I was born, she still protected everything, and would not speak of it, not even to me – except that time, in the hospital, about 8 months before she died. Perhaps she wanted to make sure I know. Maybe she thought that she might not recover, and not come home.

And that's how it was.

Anyone wishing to help, please share my petition, at this link: https://www.gofundme.com/justiceforgina

Direct link: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-stop-nursing-home-deaths 

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