06/03/2026
Today I was asked to provide proof that my terminally ill client is, in fact, terminally ill.
Not just medical records. Not just a physician’s diagnosis. But documentation stating a specific time frame of life expectancy—only then would the court consider terminating proceedings so he could spend his remaining days with his family.
I share this not to single out any one person, but to shed light on what immigration court can look like right now.
Behind every file number is a human being. A family. A life that is already in motion—often under immense stress, uncertainty, and time pressure. And sometimes the system requires that humanity to be proven in the most clinical, procedural way possible before relief is even considered.
In this case, that reality is even more difficult: he has two children currently serving in the United States military. Even with that level of service and sacrifice within the family, the request still comes down to meeting a very specific evidentiary standard.
There are real reasons courts require structure and documentation. But there are also moments where the process and the person in front of it feel like they are not speaking the same language.
This is one of those moments.
And for those who don’t work in this space, this is a small window into what “due process” can look like when time itself becomes the most fragile piece of evidence.
