With mom down, town rallies to her youngsters

Column

For months, almost since she joined the nursing home housekeeping staff, Jessica Worley counted down the days. Closer now, and closer still. Just ahead, the calendar in her head showed Dec. 20 within a glowing red circle.

On that day of days, spending money exchanged for long hours, sore feet and aching muscles, Jessica Worley would buy her youngsters the Christmas morning she had earned. There would be video games for 9-year-old Noe (rhymes with Joey); frills, baubles and playtime makeup for 5-year-old Tatiana, her girly girl; and all things Dora the Explorer for 3-year-old Briana, already an expert on colors and numbers.

"Jess was so excited," says her mom, Peri Worley. "She was so looking forward to shopping for her kids."

But when the date at last became a day — Tuesday — Jessica passed it in a silent dream, connected to monitors tracking her vital signs: heart rate, respiration, blood pressure and oxygen saturation. Most likely, she will spend Christmas and beyond in Pasco Regional Medical Center's intensive care unit, where she has been since Sunday night.

Early Saturday, Jessica flopped on the family room couch in her Tommytown mobile home, feeling flu-ish. When Cindy Worley, her aunt, arrived to check on her and the children Sunday evening, Jessica hadn't budged. Still as death, she couldn't be roused. Cindy punched up 9-1-1.

About a year ago, Jessica, 29, was diagnosed with diabetes, a condition that describes the entirety of her inheritance from her father, who succumbed to diabetic complications when she was 3.

Peri Worley, 44, concedes her daughter — "my junk-food baby" — was a reluctant patient: "I was always asking, 'Are you testing your blood? Are you taking your insulin?' She'd say, 'Yes, Momma.' But she really didn't like sticking her fingers." Who would?

Monday morning, Peri reported her daughter's condition to the housekeeping supervisor at Royal Oak Nursing Center, Jessica's employer for about three months. The news sprinted through the halls to Administrator Anita Howard: "Jessica is in a diabetic coma."

Now, this is a story of Christmas, and at Christmas folks who claim to be so busy they'd need 25-hour days to cram even one more thing onto their to-do list can, in a twinkling, whip up minor miracles in abundance.

For instance, despite the press of the holidays, Jessica's colleagues reorganized to cover her missed shifts.

"We won't have to hire anyone," Howard says. "She has job security."

Attention shifted to her youngsters. "Christmas without their mom?" Howard says, eyes welling. "I have a 6-year-old. I can't imagine what that would be like for him." Instantly, 140 staffers — well, 139, with one down — rallied. Some tossed money in a donation pot; others lined up to contribute food. A bake sale fundraiser is being organized for January.

Then word leaked, as word always does, as anyone who has watched "It's A Wonderful Life" to its conclusion well knows, mobilizing Dade City's churches, police and chamber of commerce members.

Instructively, so also is the Boys & Girls Club of Lacoochee eager to play the role of yuletide donor. Representatives showed up at Royal Oak with a couple of trash bags filled with new toys and an offer to tend the kids while the grownups maintain their hospital vigil.

"She's in there," Peri Worley says. "I know she's in there." A hand-squeeze here, a moan there — these are the mementos Jessica's loved ones are pressing into their scrapbook of hope.

What about dad? Jessica's relationship with Ruben Fernandez Jr., a laid-off construction worker, has ebbed and flowed since their eyes first locked at Pasco Middle School 15 years ago. Fernandez is back in the family's mobile home, shouldering dad duties.

"I think this situation has gotten his attention," Peri Worley says. "He seems … a little more serious."

Otherwise, she gushes gratitude for the kindness of strangers.

"I came to Dade City (from Michigan) in 1985. This is my town, and I love it. It's unbelievable the help I'm getting," she said, thumbing away a tear. "I can't thank people enough."

Opportunity remains. Dade City police asked about jackets and sweaters for the cold to come, but the youngsters want for jeans or warm dresses and leggings. Noe wears boys size 8, but prefers loose-fitting shirts. Tatiana is in girls size 6 and Briana wears size 3T.

They wouldn't reject age-appropriate playthings, either. For the record, the family gaming system is a PlayStation 3 (even if what Noe really needs is a junior league, sure-grip football). And when she's not lost in Dora's world, Briana demonstrates a fascination for Hot Wheels. Receptionists at Royal Oak and Pasco Regional — neighbors on Fort King Road behind Pasco High School — are standing by.

Naturally, gifts alone do not make a yuletide. But long after the colorful wrapping is tossed, the toys discarded and the clothes outgrown, Jessica Worley's children will ponder the Christmas their mom spent in ICU, and the miraculous stories of generosity shall abide.