Pubdate: Mon, 09 Jan 2006
Source: Black Hills Pioneer, The (SD)
Website: http://www.bhpioneer.com/
Feedback: 
http://www.zwire.com/site/news.cfm?newsid=29038&BRD=1300&PAGF1&dept_id=156921&rf
Address: 315 Seaton Circle, Spearfish SD 57783
Copyright: The Black Hills Pioneer, Newspapers 2006
Author: Mary Haydal, Her mom
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/meth.htm (Methamphetamine)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/youth.htm (Youth)

FROM SOMEONE WHO LOVED CASSIE: PART TWO

Editor's Note: The following is a part of the full story of a mother 
who lost her daughter to methamphetamine use. Mary Haydal will be in 
the Northern Hills area to personally share her experiences with 
adults and children this month.

Adults will receive drug education during the presentation, and the 
children will view a memorial video for Cassie and a two-minute DVD 
of Cassie taken two weeks before she collapsed from meth use. 
Haydal's next presentation will be held Jan. 10 at Spearfish High 
School. ----------------------------------- Last edit: October 7, 
2003 -- Her hands and feet were turned inward, like the knuckles were 
turning the hand and the toes were turning the feet toward the center 
of her. I did not know at the time that this was a sign of permanent 
brain damage.

She was cold and blue. I kept breathing into her, terrified and 
stricken with only what was happening that second.

I had no idea what was going on around me. Like someone in the front 
of the world's biggest roller coaster, I was gripping to endure the 
downhill ride. At one point it dawned on me that she could have some 
poison or chemical in her system.

I slapped her face. I had never done that before. "Cassie, wake up! 
Did someone give you drugs last night?" I checked her jean pockets 
for evidence of this. I didn't know what I was looking for, but I 
knew then that something was in her body. Nicki came back. Shannon 
wasn't home. Nicki saw I was doing CPR and started screaming. It was 
forever before the paramedics and sheriff came. I was sure they would 
push me out of the way and do CPR the right way. But they told me, 
"Keep going". As they set up their equipment, I was counting, "One 
and two and three and four," Shouting it out loud. CPR is very 
painful for the person receiving it. Done correctly, it breaks ribs 
and causes bruising.

It was hard to push hard enough into my child's chest to do any good. 
I knew I was deliberately hurting her. "This wasn't right.

It wasn't right"! I was yelling at myself. I desperately wanted 
someone else to take over. I felt like I was trembling so much I was 
losing control of my body. Cassie was still cold and purple. Finally, 
the paramedics took over. They hurriedly surrounded my daughter with 
small machines and tubes.

One machine was attached to her chest.

I remember being so surprised and afraid when the machine started 
talking out loud and it was telling them to shock her. I remember 
asking a sheriff deputy, an acquaintance who was standing in the 
kitchen, "Pat, is she dead?" He didn't answer me. He looked right at 
me and then at Cassie. He had a drained, panicked look on his face. 
The kind of look you might have if you were watching someone drowned.

We had known them for years.

His wife had taught Nicki at the country school, just two doors down. 
He had helped Greg chase bulls when they got out of the fence.

He knew us. This doesn't happen to people you know. Mostly, it 
doesn't happen to you. I wasn't thinking of any of this now. All I 
could think of was how much time I had wasted, doing improper 
technique and not having the right equipment when I needed it. I 
wanted to get her to the hospital as fast as possible.

Surely they could make a miracle happen there. Someone told me I 
could not ride in the ambulance.

"You and Nicki take the car and follow us. There is no room in here 
for anyone to ride." Pat said, "I will go look for Greg."

One of the deputies called dispatch to send a patrol car to find 
Greg. The ambulance backed slowly, awkwardly out of our long driveway 
that Greg and I could back out of with our eyes closed.

If ever there was a time I wanted to yank someone from behind the 
wheel and do it myself, that was it. The sheriff car left behind the ambulance.

Nicki and I backed out last. Nicki and I drove to the hospital together.

I had my left hand on the steering wheel and one pulling on the top 
of her shirt.

We were praying fervent, loud prayers.

Every memorized prayer we knew. The ambulance seemed to be driving so slowly.

I kept thinking, don't let her die...just get her to the hospital.

Go faster.

Oh my God, why are they going so slow? "She must be dead", I kept 
repeating to Nicki, "Otherwise they would be going faster." We only 
had to drive two to three miles to reach the hospital.

I parked the car and jumped out even before it completely stopped.

Nicki and I walked hesitantly towards the sliding Emergency room doors.

The ambulance had disappeared inside doors of its own. In between 
both sets of those doors stood Sister Patrick Leonard Murphy, a good friend.

Her face and her eyes scared me. I've never seen her look like that before.

She was truly shaken.

Cassie had been one of her first fledgling volunteers when she was 
just in fifth grade.

Now she waited for us and embraced both Nicki and me as we entered 
the sliding doors together. She said, "When they described the youth 
they were transporting on the scanner, I never dreamed in a million 
years it would be Cassie!" I wandered dumbly towards the room where 
they had taken Cassie, but I was sent to the registration desk to 
sign permission forms and give our insurance information. When I went 
to sign the form, my hand wouldn't hold the pen. I told the lady I 
couldn't sign the forms, because I couldn't control my hands.

They were violently shaking.

I kept trying, but wasn't able to write and I kept looking past her 
into the emergency room. I was pleading with that woman to let me go. 
She kindly told me just to make a squiggle line. I did. We stood 
outside the room where they had Cassie. But they wouldn't let me in. 
Just then Greg pulled up and I ran outside.

Before I could greet him, I had to bend over and grab my knees to 
catch my breath.

I felt like I was going to pass out...Up until now, nothing had 
seemed real, but seeing his form move toward me made me realize I 
would have to recount the last half hour to him. That made it real. 
When he reached me, I told him briefly what had happened.

His face drained.

We leaned on each other and walked inside. He pushed his way into the 
room where Cassie was. Nothing was going to keep him from her. The 
priest was in there to give her the Last Rights. A Catholic sacrament 
administered to the seriously ill and dying.

It was at that time, they got a pulse.

We thought that was a sign she was going to pull through. By now it 
was late evening.

She was in critical condition, but they finally got her stabilized 
enough to put her into an ICU room. She was in a deep coma. Doctors 
went in and out. Finally, her doctor came out to talk with us. He is 
a quiet, gentle man. He always had a good bedside manner with children.

He had taken care of Cassie since the day she was born. He and his 
family lived up the road from us. His pig, Frances, would always get 
out of her pen and she would be in the middle of the road sometimes 
when Cassie, Nicki and I went for walks. He didn't seem like our 
neighbor now. He came out of the ICU area looking exhausted and tense.

He searched our faces as he told us our daughter had tested positive 
for meth. His words bounced off of me. I felt cold. We all stood in a 
numb row. This wasn't happening.

There had to be some mistake.

I talked to her about drugs every day from the time she was in junior 
high. We did not use drugs.

We were adamant about drug use. We went to drug talks together and 
attended church every Sunday. People like us don't have kids who use drugs.

Country towns like ours don't have drugs...He left us to our numb 
disbelief to digest what we couldn't even chew...I knew he would be 
back to tell us he was mistaken.

Wait a minute...I thought; someone must have slipped Cassie the drugs.

That must've been what happened.

Well, we would deal severely with whoever had given our baby girl 
drugs. The police chief had been sitting quietly in the waiting room. 
I wondered what she was doing there.

The drug task force arrived.

Everyone was asking questions.

The doctor or hospital must've called them. The drug task force agent 
asked permission to search Cassie's car and bedroom.

They left immediately. Later I learned that they had found nothing. 
The waiting rooms and hallways started to fill with Cassie's friends.

They slapped us with the truth that we wanted to deny. Cassie had 
been using Meth for a year and a half. I was cold to their tears and 
their apologies and even though they kept vigil outside of the 
intensive care unit, I remained in a disbelieving, angry distance 
from all of her friends - The very ones who I welcomed into my home, 
the ones who sat on my bed and visited for hours at a time, the ones 
who ate meals with us and had been like one of my own, the ones I 
trusted, had used drugs with my daughter.

The others standing there had known the truth, but did not tell us. 
People were kind. They brought us food and coffee to the private 
waiting room, but we didn't take any. I remember not being able to 
even swallow water.

I had terrible anxiety attacks, one after another.

My entire body felt cold with fear. I shook and trembled, as I 
awaited my daughter's fate. I couldn't sit still.

None of us could.

We paced.

We looked into each other's expressionless faces.

Time was moving so slowly for us now. Hours went by one second at a 
time. The next morning I felt "rescued" when the emergency flight 
team came and prepared her for the trip to Billings. I had felt 
relief to know we were going to a bigger hospital. The maternity 
nurses let me use their shower.

All of the items they brought me to shower with were for babies.

I let the hot water penetrate into my soul. Everyone in here was 
having babies, I thought, I was losing mine... Someone brought me 
some warm clothes and my purse.

I was ready in a few short minutes.

I waited with some administration personnel from the hospital who were friends.

They were very caring.

I believe I could've asked them for anything at that moment and it 
would have been delivered. As a family, we decided that I would fly 
with Cassie, and Greg would drive the rest of the family to Billings. 
It was starting to blizzard.

We embraced each other and left It was so cold outside and the snow 
was coming down in big, thick chunks.

Heaven was purging snow. I prayed for my family driving in this. You 
couldn't see a foot in front of you. 
- ---
MAP posted-by: Beth Wehrman