a Saturday morning in New York

I have complete faith that Uma will wake up. I know it in my heart of hearts. Yes, there are moments where I freak out and get afraid, but then I stop myself because she’s fuckin’ kickin’ it in that hospital bed and fear ain’t doing her any good. She needs our strength, so let’s stay strong.

*

I’m back in New York. I arrived at five this morning and then decided to take the subway into the city instead of a taxi, which was a foolish idea because I know the layout of New York just about as well as I know the layout of, well, a woman’s vagina (which is to say: not very well) and I got slightly lost, and, yeah, it took me two hours to get to the hotel I was supposed to get some pre-visiting-hours sleep at, but then at the hotel there was a mix-up and they told me no one would be able to check me in until 9am, and by then my nose felt like it was going to freeze off and I was too awake to sleep anyway, and so I just decided to go sit at Starbucks until 11am Visiting Hours, and here I am, and I kind of really have to poop but I don’t want to drag both of my suitcases into the bathroom and I don’t want to leave them out here unattended, so me and my need to poop are at a stalemate.

*

I can see the hospital from where I’m sitting and I’ve counted up 11 floors and am focusing energy in that direction. When Sianie drove me to the airport last night, she gave me this little Mexican charm—wings with eyes (blurry photo below). She told me to bring the charm to the hospital and visualize Uma opening her eyes, just like the charm. So that’s what I’m doing right now.

(thank you, Sianie)
*

This is good: Both of the procedures Uma had yesterday—the P.E.G. procedure to move her feeding tube and the tracheostomy to move her ventilator—went very well, no problems. Which means she should be more comfortable right now (without annoying plastic tubes in her mouth and nose) and hopefully this will help her get to a place where she can wake up!

*

A woman just walked past the Starbucks window, crying. Not sobbing, just quietly crying. I hope she gets through whatever she’s going through.

*

I’m reading The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell right now, and I love the idea that little things can create big change. It makes sense. It makes the world seem less chaotic and strange.

People continue to ask if they can do something to help. First off, yes: you can keep praying and sending good healthy vibes. That helps. I know it does.

But if you want to do something physical—if you want to be active—I was thinking that, this weekend, we could all find a moment—it doesn’t have to be big, it can just be a little moment—and do something nice for a stranger. And when you’re doing that nice thing for that stranger, think of Uma. You don’t need to mention Uma to that stranger—though you could, if you wanted—just do something nice and tell the universe that you did that nice thing for Uma. (Like when someone sends you a Christmas card and tells you that they’ve donated money in your name to The National Autistic Society, or whatever—you’re donating the good deed you do this weekend to the world in the name of Uma.)

Let that person into your lane on the freeway.
Buy a coffee for the the person behind you in line at Starbucks.
Help the little old lady cross the street.
Whatever, just something nice.

The idea is to create some goodness in the world to combat the feelings of helplessness that can so easily creep in when your loved ones are in trouble and you can’t do much about it, other than sit and hope and pray.

Okay, so: good deeds.

Toodles for now.