lotsa green hearts!

This woman named Jessica (whose blog I found through communicatrix) read about Uma and drew a valentine for Uma and also for Jessica's friend Rick, who's also in the hospital right now (he recently had a brain tumor removed). The valentine is filled with green hearts and it's a beautiful drawing, and I've been meaning to post it for a while, and so here it is:

Uma continues to make amazing improvements every day, and I hope that Rick in Fredericton is doing amazing too...Jessica, I have been thinking of him and sending him healing energy vibes...

The internet really can be a really small place sometimes, but the love can be fucking big.

we got through DAY 21

we got through DAY 21! that's a good milestone.

Uma gets better every day.

today she was mouthing words, like she was trying to talk to us.

(she can't talk yet because the tracheostomy in her throat diverts air away from her mouth, but the fact that she's trying to talk is majorly good.)

i just wanted to share the good news about how Uma's trying to talk. it's exciting.

oh, and john played some music for her today and she tapped her foot along with the music. which is also a great sign. lots of great signs these days.

thanks for your continued prayers and good thoughts.

Day 21!

Sorry it's been a few days since my last Uma update...they are going to be sporadic because of my current lack of computer.

The really good news is that Uma continues to improve neurologically and become more and more responsive every day. It's amazing to be in there with her and see every little improvement. She's doing a lot of smiling and a lot of frowning and furrowing of her brows. I think she's really tired of all of the poking and prodding.

Thank you for all of your hopes and prayers and good vibes and energy. I know that it's helping her get through this and all of the support has been amazing.

They did a chest CAT Scan yesterday which revealed that she still has pneumonia and that she has a staff infection--neither of these things are good, but they aren't unexpected either. Pretty much every patient who's in bed without moving for as long as Uma has been in bed without moving is expected to go through some of these things and they are treating her accordingly. Her most recent head CAT Scan didn't show any new swelling, so that's very good news. Today is DAY 21, which means that tomorrow Uma will officially be in the "safe zone," i.e. the lower risk zone for strokes. So that's a milestone we are very eager and excited to reach.

Please continue visualizing Uma speaking and understanding and having her memories--that's what we're really focusing our prayers on right now--we want Uma to come back to us in all her loving, snarky, funny, quirky glory. She has been swallowing, which is a good sign because the part of your brain that knows how to swallow is the same part of your brain that knows how to speak. How freaking weird is that? But it's true. So, I guess, today, when you're having lunch or dinner or a late night snack or whatever, it'd be cool if you could remember this whole swallowing/speaking connection, and when you notice yourself swallowing, take a second to picture/imagine Uma speaking. That would be cool--and now that I've written so much about swallowing, I have a feeling that you're going to have a hard time NOT noticing every time you swallow today. And now that I've used the word "swallowing," um, so many swallowing times, I'm starting to think about what Uma's response to this swallowing paragraph would be and I have a pretty good feeling that she would respond to this email with some irreverent, dirty comment, and if your mind has gone somewhere dirty because of all of this swallowing talk, that is completely and totally appropriate and Uma would be happy. Okay, so to summarize: every time you notice yourself swallowing today, visualize Uma talking. That would be rockstar.

Oh! Also: the doctors have said it's okay for Uma to listen to music, so John put all of her favorite songs on an itunes playlist and she's been listening to music on an ipod and she really seems to enjoy it and smiles every time a new song comes on! So please continue to do some dancing for Uma! Outkast or the Gorillaz or the Buffy soundtrack or Eminem--all completely appropriate Uma bands to listen to.

love,
Erik

And here's John's email update from last night: (when i copy and paste it into blogger, the formatting gets all funky and words run together and i have no idea why that is and i don't feel like adding spacing and paragraph breaks right now because you're adults and you should be able to read it just fine.)

(the picture above is john and me at dinner the other night)

John's email:

hey there,the fatigue of this is finally catching up to me ithink.....or maybe it's the relief that for five daysin a row uma has been ok - at least ok in the sensethat she has not suffered another strok/vasospasm, her fevers etc. seem to be under control (today's was just99.5), her coughing is down and, even though she'sstill a little bit sedated she is responsive to manythings.before I fall asleep i really want to express my thanks to everyone for all the energy and prayers andemails and calls and cards we've received. when umahas fully come back to us she'll be amazed at all theresponse. thank you all.........and don't stop! tomorrow is day 21 and a very important one.pray....just see her with a normal flow of blood toevery part of her brain.....easy, uninterrupted, full,rich, efficient, alive, and healing.she had her cat scans today - one for her head and one for her chest. the one for her head looks good but wehaven't talked to a doctor about the one for her chestyet. they had a couple of pretty difficult cases comein and all the dr.s were in the operating room most of the afternoon and into the evening. we'll learn whatthe chest ct says tomorrow morning. i hope that thereduced fever is an indicator that the chest ct willbe ok, too. for those of you with little hospital experience, infections are rampant in there......allthose people indoors and all those compromised immunesystems.......what we really don't need right now is anasty staph infection. something like that could set her back several weeks and we need to get her to rehabjust as fast as is humanly or divinely possible.she did smile today and frown today - both bigger thanever. it's so difficult to tell if she really recognizes you or is smiling because she sees yousmile. i imagine her brain to be reeling still. wewon't really know where we stand for a long time ithink.it's odd.....i believe she and i had some nice moments together today. i felt an amazing sense of peace juststanding next to her and reminding her that she agreedto marry me (smile) that i want to go home soon andmake her dinner to eat in bed (smile) and watch the sopranos (BIG smile)......and then i showed her herengagement ring, let her hold in between her leftthumb and index finger (!), and then put it on her andshowed her her hand. she looked at it for what seemed like a long time and then back at me but this timewith what appeared to be a rather seriousface.......moments like that most of the day........sohard to know where we are with this. it can be reallylonely even though there are still many people here.....nithi, erik, eleanor.i was feeling deeply alone and deeply troubled today -i went to the chapel and prayed there, then cameupstairs to her bedside and prayed there - i wasreminded of the truth. my truths are that we are in a reltionship with a good foundation and some kind offuture = that she has really done nothing but amazeeveryone and improve just about everyday - that thereis a very solid structure in place to deal with the next step(s) - that we are supported and loved bythousands. every other thought right now is notreally a known truth. so i found my footing againwith the truth of my life as it is now.i hope we all wake up to yet another good day for her....no infectionno fevergood chest ctmore response (in whatever form)thanks very much to all of you.love

john

Toodles for now.

Prayers for Uma

Go to 2220 Beverly Blvd. in Silverlake (los angeles) and sign the prayer wall for Uma!

Uma Update, Day 18

It's Saturday morning. John, Nithi and I are sitting in the waiting room. Ken Roht's here too--he just left for Starbucks (coffee, cupcakes). Nithi was in with Uma for a while and when he came back in here he was beaming: "I just saw a miracle," he said. "She smiled at me. Not just once--three times. When she smiled the first time, that made me smile, and then I asked her to smile again and she smiled again! It wasn't quite a full smile--it was stronger on her left side, but even though it was crooked it was definitely a smile!" I think that the fact that her smile is kinda crooked is incredibly appropriate for Uma right now because you gotta believe that Uma is supremely annoyed to be in that dambed hospital bed and having who knows how many tubes attached to her and I'm sure she wishes she could talk to us right now. But as annoying as the bed and the tubes must be, I know that she feels all of the love that's coming to her (from all over the world--I have gotten emails from people in Malaysia, Canada, England, all over the freaking place--so many people are rooting for and praying for Ums) and that love must feel good, so that's why she's smiling.

Every so often, the nurses have to suction her mouth and throat to clear her airways (because Uma can't really do that herself as long as she has the tracheostomy) and whenver they do this suction thing, she makes the snarliest facial expression. It's so Uma. You can feel her thinking, like: "Get that damned suction thing away from me!"

I know that Nithi is right--the fact that she's smiling today is a miracle. The last few days have been filled with little miracles like this. Last night, when I went in to say goodnight to Uma before leaving the hospital, I was standing on her right side and I reached across her and held her left hand and told her: "Hey Urp, it's me, it's Erik. I'm going to bed now, but I'll be back in the morning. We all love you and we're all here for you. Get some sleep tonight--get some rest--and we'll see you in the morning." I let go of her hand and then she lifted her hand up and reached out to mine, as if to say: "I don't want you to leave yet." So I took her hand and said, "you don't want me to go, do you?" And then she squeezed my thumb. So I stayed in there with her a little while longer, until she'd closed her eyes and gone to sleep.

Another little miracle: when I was in there with her this morning, I held her right hand--the side that was affected by the aneurysm and the stroke--which we see her move occasionally, and are encouraged even more every time we see another movement over there--anyway, this morning when I was holding her right hand, she squeezed my thumb with it. A firm, strong squeeze. This is hugely good. Good progress.

Speaking of progress, here's Uma's latest health update. Sorry I didn't send this out last night, but my laptop is on the fritz (it's at a computer repair shop right now and should be fixed by Monday) and I am typing this update at the local Mailbox Etc. Yesterday was our second really good day in a row. Lots of good news:

--Her CAT Scan looks better.

--The swelling in her brain has definitely decreased.

--The doctor believes that the area of her brain that they thought might have died in the stroke might be getting blood supply, which means that it might be getting revitalized, which means that it might be alive! This is amazing news, and let's hope with all of our hearts that it's true. (This is a huge thing to focus our visualizations and prayers on!) The reasons he thinks this area might be alive are that the color of the brain in the CAT Scan indicates as much, and he also has a lot of hope because of the fact that she's moving so much and she continues to improve neurologically (blinking, squeezing hands, SMILING, etc.)

--Her draining tube is draining orange, which means that even though there's still blood in there, it's still draining!

--Even though she still has pneumonia and a fever, it's getting better and the doctors are on top of it.

Okay, now here's the thing that I want to ask you to really focus your prayers and visualizations and thoughts on for the next few days...(and since I don't have a computer right now, I might not be able to send out another email update until Monday or Tuesday, so if you could really hold onto what I'm about to say and focus on it for the next few days, that would be so fucking rockstar)...Apparently the risk of strokes continues for the first year, but that risk goes down considerably after DAY 21. After DAY 21, we enter what the doctor referred to as "the safe zone." The safe zone sounds like a really good place to be. We are looking forward to being in the safe zone. Those are good, encouraging words. And we're close. We enter the safe zone on Tuesday. So let's get to Tuesday without any more strokes, without any more vasospasms, without any more complications. We are almost there...

Some other general health updates:

--We're waiting for the sweeling to completely pass, then we can start thinking about weening her off of the ventilator and getting rid of her draining tube. (Speaking of the draining tube, let's also keep visualize blood draining because we want all of that blood out of there so that she doesn't have to have a shunt put in.) (I realize that I'm asking y'all to visualize several different things, but Uma's brain is still juggling a lot of stuff and we don't want to have to worry about a shunt...so: NO SHUNT.) (thank you!)

--When she's more stable and off of all of the pumps and tubes and done being treated for vasospasm, they will do an MRI, which should tell us more about what kind of damage has been done up there. ANYTHING is still possible, which I take as a really positive thing--let's focus on Uma being whole again, on her speaking, on her understanding, on her getting back her memories, on her coming back to us with her unique, funny, devilish, wonderful personality fully intact.
The doctor said last night that he was "very encouraged," which is one of the most positive things we've heard any of the doctors say EVER, and we should all take these words and run with them. The positive energy that we are sending to Uma is WORKING, it is manifesting itself in major improvements. So thank you so much for all of the continued love and energy.

I'm about to be kicked out of Mailbox Etc.--they close in five minutes--but I just want to leave you all with one final image. The hospital waiting room next to Uma's ICU is filled with all of these people all of the time, friends and family of Uma, and friends and family of the other patients in Uma's room. As soon as you step into the waiting room, you have this immediate bond with these other people. You look at the people around you and you know that they're going through the same thing that you're going through, and it's an amazing thing. We've had some amazing conversations. One minute we'll all be having a random conversation about indoor beaches in Japan and we'll all be laughing, and then the next minute we'll be talking about something that Uma did, or how one of the other patients is improving, or sharing information about how to apply for disability, or just passing around some bits and scraps of food. I know that I was trying to build to a point with all of this, but the Mailbox' Etc. guy is telling me to wrap it up. I just wanted to give all of you out there a nice image of a bunch of strangers helping each other getting through a tough time. We're all pretty fucking fragile and we all have the ability to be pretty fucking great too.

Thanks for all the love. If you have any messages for Uma, I'm happy to pass them along to her.

love,
Erik

Keep your peckers up! / Thursday's Uma Update

Communicatrix used the above quote in an email to me today—it’s something her grandfather used to say—and I think it’s the best damned advice I’ve heard in a long time, especially when talking about Uma, because it’s advice that Uma would (1) love, and (2) totally dispense to others.

So keep your peckers up, people! Uma still needs our hopes and prayers!

I’m sitting in a stairwell writing this because it’s the only place where I can find wireless in the apartment building I’m staying in right now. There’s actually wireless in my room, but it only works when I’m standing on the bed and holding my laptop at chest level (and I swear to you that I’ve moved my laptop around just about every square inch of that room and that one specific spot several feet above the bed is literally the only spot in the entire room with a valid internet connection) and it’s hard to type when you’re standing on a bed and holding your laptop at chest level, so I’m sitting in the stairwell.

Today (Thursday) was a rockstar day. Uma is making progress. Lots of progress. She is not out of the woods yet—we still need to visualize the rest of the blood draining from her brain area, we still want the swelling in her brain to go down, we still want her to start talking, to smile, to laugh, to fully Wake Up!—but she is definitely moving in the right direction.

John and Nithi and I had been saying all day that we felt like Uma was being more responsive than usual—that she was moving more and that she was focusing her eyes more—and then when the doctor brought us out into the hall for the day's update, that's the very first thing he said to us: "she's more responsive today." It's always nice to hear the doctors affirm something you hope and believe (and know). The second thing the doctor said was that Uma isn't following his commands yet (emphasis on the word "yet"). I like to think that she's just being stubborn because she's not the type of woman to really follow any random dude's "commands." I'll have to remember to tell her that Dr. Herschfield is a pretty cool guy.

They haven't done another CAT Scan yet (the next CAT Scan is scheduled for sometime today), but they assume that the edema (I'm not sure if that's how you spell it or not) is the same as it was the previous day ("edema" is the swelling in her brain) (when the doctor first used the word "edema," we were all like, "um, huh?" but we didn't ask him what it meant until he'd used the word about ten times and then we all felt a lot better listening to him talk because we suddenly understood what he was saying), which is to say: swollen but stable and not swelling any more. The fact that the edema isn't getting worse is definitely a good thing. But we want that swelling to fucking go away, so let's keep visualizing the swelling going down and the tissues in that part of her brain reforming and coming back to life. There's a chance that the swollen part of Uma's brain is dead, but since she's young there's also a good chance that the rest of her brain can compensate for a little bit of dead brain. And hey, anything is still possible at this point, so there's also a chance that the swollen part of her brain is still alive and let's keep visualizing THAT too. (Life is filled with possibilities—that's one of the things that I'm really starting to learn from all of this—sure, life can suck and your loved ones can get brain aneurysms and be in comas and all, but nothing is freaking impossible. Uma proves that simple fact every single day.)

It was mostly just the three of us at the hospital—John, Uma's dad Nithi, and me—Jason came by for a while too—and we all got to spend a lot of time alone with Uma. When I was in there with her, we held hands for about thirty minutes. Which is totally something I'm going to make fun of her for when she's all better because she is so not the hand-holding type. At least, not with me. And I think that our thirty-minute hand holding session today might have been the longest amount of time we've ever touched each other in all of the years we've been friends. At one point I asked Uma, "is this okay? Do you want to let go of my hand?" And then she squeezed my hand even tighter. It was a definite response, a definite "no, I do not want to let go of your hand." And her eyes are much more focused today, which is really wonderful. Earlier in the week, when she first started opening her eyes, they didn't really seem to focus on anything, but now you can tell that she's looking at you. Now you can really see Uma there.

Uma's left wrist is restrained to the bed so that she doesn't reach up and pull out any of her tubes and at one point while we were standing there, holding hands, I noticed that Uma was staring at her wrist restraint. And this wasn't an idle stare, this stare was like: "why the fuck am I wearing a wrist restraint???" And so I asked Nancy the nurse (my favorite nurse, the one who yells really loud) if Uma had to wear the restraint and Nancy yelled to Uma: "DO YOU WANT ME TO TAKE IT OFF, UMA!?!?" Uma squeezed my hand tight and I told Nancy that was a yes. So then Nancy yelled out: "OKAY, UMA, BUT ONLY IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO PULL OUT ANY OF YOUR TUBES, OKAY?!?!?" Uma squeezed my hand tight again and I told Nancy, "she promises." So then Nancy loosened the restraint and Uma definitely appeared relieved. She looked tired and I told her it was okay to take a nap if she wanted to because we'd all still be waiting for her when she woke up. Uma closed her eyes for a few minutes, but then she opened them up again—she never closes them for very long because I think she wants to know what's going on around her.

At one point, I saw Uma move her right hand up and over several inches until it was resting on her stomach. This is HUGE. It may sound like a little thing, but I swear to you it is something to celebrate. The right side of her body is the side of her body that was affected by the aneurysm and this was the biggest movement I've seen her right hand make. All of these little big moments give me more and more hope, and they should give you more and more hope too. Uma is feeling all of our love, all of our support, all of our prayers, our visualizations. Our little acts of anarchy and visualization. Our wicked dance moves. They're all reaching her in that hospital bed and they're making her stronger. So let's keep it up!

A couple things you can do today (or tomorrow) (or the next day) to help keep Uma at the forefront of your thoughts:

(1) Share one of your favorite Uma anecdotes in the comments section of http://www.teamuma.blogspot.com/

(2) Go to 2220 Beverly Blvd. in Silverlake, where the fine folks of the Bootleg Theater have started up an Uma Prayer Wall—I think it's the main wall right outside the theater, there's a big green heart in the center of the wall so you shouldn't be able to miss it—and spread some Uma love with your sharpie. Consider it guilt-free vandalism.

Also...

Here's John's email update from today (sorry the formatting is weird, but my cut-and-paste function is getting rid of the formatting in his email and I'm too tired to fix it right now):

everyone,

there has been a different answer today than two daysago. inexplicably, uma has begun opening her eyes andmoving her limbs (even on the right side) more than ihave seen since i saw her at our hotel on jan.31st. when she hears your voice she looks at you. shereaches for the rail of the bed with her left hand.she reaches her left hand up to look at it. she raises her eyebrows. her left leg moves all the time. i sawher right hand (remember, this aneurysm/strokeaffected the left side of her brain which controls theright side of her body) move at least five times today and once, when i was rubbing lotion on her right arm,she very briskly pulled it back from me. she looks very irritated whenever i use the suctiontool to clear her mouth. (how very uma!) and sheroutinely squeezes you hand with her left. the ventriculostomy continues to drain more and moreclearly. it has a yellow tinge to it now (as opposedto red) which indicates the continued breakdown of theexcess blood from the aneurysm. if this doesn't clear up as soon as they'd like, she will be fitted with apermanent shunt which would draw the blood from hercranium to her abdomen. she is much more relaxed and responsive today and herdr. said that he is much more optimistic than he was two days ago. her breathing is even and slow now -she's not fighting it today. when i asked him againabout the angioplasty he said that many blood vesselswere reopened and that, in fact, there is apossibility that the swelling is due to the reinfusion of blood in those areas. tomorrow is the next catscan - this would correspondto about a 72 hour period after the stroke. of coursewe will look very much forward to another 'different' answer then as well. one of the last things i did tonight, after havinglots of time alone with her today (!), was catch thefocus in her eyes and i just smiled so big! you knowwhen you can be looking at someone's eyes but see their whole face, too? and you feel there is someconnection there? that's what i felt and the left sideof her mouth rose up and her eyes crinkled ever soslightly. (this mouth motion differed markedly from the wince i saw yesterday - she was relaxed). wherevershe is in her beautiful but horribly beat up brain, ithink there was a warmth that was given and receivedon a very basic human level. a rehabilitation person came in for the first time today to measure her for a splint for her right armwhich will provide passive resistance to it forawhile. she hasn't been moving it that much and theywant to get started on that. so - yesterday i felt like a ghost. i asked you for your help and i am so grateful for all the emails andcalls i got today. i got help and so did uma. and it'sso nice to give you all some good news. we've all been praying so hard and sending her so much love (strangers email me to tell me they have yelledfor uma to 'wake up!') and i believe its important toreally celebrate the good news. it's a brave thing todo when you think about it because tomorrow could be bad news again. but still.....if you CAN smile, youSHOULD! please have good smile for our girl tonight.she's so brave and is working so hard against this. i want to tell you that i truly think she's on a very long road with all of this, but that she is not alone.we are all with her however long it will be. to thinkthat she is out of danger is not wise right now. toknow, in all of our hearts, that she is doing better is very wise. just before i left tonight i heard thenurse say to the doctor something about herintercranial pressure being up and they began workingon it. we want her swelling and intercranial pressure to have gone downwe want her awareness, her uma-ness to emerge as soonas it can, specifically that she can, very soon,follow a simple command and breathe on her own. we want her to be able to avoid a permanent shunt. we want no more stroke, no more vasospasmwe want no divisiveness against all of the bonds shehas chosen in life. however loudly or boldly you pray for these things,give a prayer of thanks just as loud, becaus this IS the direction we want her to go in. reading your emails and feeling all the love andprayer and support in so many different ways....AND.seeing uma the way she was today has made me feel likea brand new copper-top battery. in some way, i can't wait to see what she'll do tomorrow.

all my love and gratitude,

john

*

Oh, and here are some photos Aaron Case took in the waiting room a couple of days ago (I really need to shave):

That's all for tonight.

xo, hope, and love.

Wednesday's update

Okay, I've been trying to keep my blog updated with the Uma updates that I've been sending out to my Uma mailing list, and I sent out an email this morning that never got posted on the blog, so I'm posting it now. This is yesterday's update. I'll post today's update in a little bit, but I'll just say right now (because there's no need for suspense, we've got enough fucking suspense in our lives) that she had a really good day today.

This morning's report re: yesterday:

I'm about to head out for the hospital, but I wanted to send out a quick Uma update before I go…

Yesterday's CAT Scan was the same as the previous day's CAT Scan…which means the swelling is still there…but there's NO NEW SWELLING. Which is very good. We're hoping there's no new swelling today, and no new swelling again tomorrow…and that the swelling starts to go down…(that would be fucking rockstar).

Uma is still responding neurologically…she's still opening her eyes, she's still moving…she moved her right foot a lot yesterday…and I had a moment alone with her where she opened her eyes and I swear she looked at me. Other times I've seen her open her eyes, they didn't really seem to focus on anything, but yesterday was different…they were focused, they were looking, seeing…we had a moment.

So all of that bolsters my feelings of hope. We're back on the right track after a scary day…let's all stay hopeful and strong and keep sending her good healthy vibes.

love,
Erik

p.s. Thank you for all of your Uma Valentine wishes and photos and messages. Uma will love them when she wakes up from all of this.

p.p.s. a few more green hearts for Uma:

Green hearts for Uma

I HEART UMA day

From Michal:

On this national day of love we call Valentines day, let us use this opportunity to send ALL OF OUR COLLECTIVE LOVE in Uma's direction.

Let's make today, I HEART UMA day.

If you're reading this right now, please take a second to leave a comment for Uma at her official blog. Be it an expression of your love to her, a funny Uma memory, or even just a quick hello.Many of us have been emailing her little messages and leaving her comments on her myspace page. Lets get all the love concentrated in one place today.

Uma needs us today. She had a rough day yesterday and she needs all the love and support we can give her. Lets make her feel it.

http://teamuma.blogspot.com/

Uma Valentine's Day!

Before I get to Uma's health update, I just want to say that today is Valentine's Day we gotta embrace this Valentine's Day more freaking hardcore than any Valentine's Day we've ever been through. Because, here's the thing: if you ask Uma what she thinks about V Day, I know she'll say that she hates it—too commercial, too mushy, too red. But that's just what she'll say, and it wouldn't entirely be true. Now, yes, it would be true that she hates candy and chocolates and all the commercial aspects of this holiday, but even though Uma acts like she hates the mushy stuff, I know that she secretly kinda likes it. Okay, loves it. (She'll be mad when she reads this and finds out that I've spilled this secret, but I'm okay with that.) Because, see, the mushy stuff is all about love and it's hard not to like feeling loved.

I'm staying at my Aunt Julie's house here in New York (she's technically my Step-Great-Aunt) and last night we had dinner together and Julie's nine-year-old daughter was making Valentines for all of her classmates (and she made one for Uma too) and Julie mentioned that Valentine's Day is her favorite holiday "because if you strip away the commercialism, it's a day where we honor our loved ones—and without that love, we'd all be dead. It's impossible to live without love. Babies who aren't held, who don't feel love, they don't make it. We literally need love to live." I thought that was a good way to look at this holiday. Forget all the commercialism and just make damned sure that all of your loved ones know how much you love them.

Uma's in a really scary place right now. She's freaking been in a scary place for the last fourteen days, but it got scarier last night. They did a new CAT Scan and found that she did, indeed, have a stroke. As a result of the stroke, there is swelling in her brain. This swelling is bad. This swelling could continue for the next 72 hours and there really isn't anything the doctors can do to stop it. They'll check on the swelling every day with a new CAT Scan, and we have to hope and pray that the swelling stops, that it goes down. If it doesn't go down, if the pressure gets too intense (elevated intracranial pressure), they might have to do a risky procedure wherein they remove a portion of her skull to give the brain room to continue to swell. We don't want this to happen. We want the swelling to stop. We don't want the swelling to continue for 72 hours. If the swelling continues, she could go into a deeper coma. We want the swelling to stop the fuck now.

That's the bad news. The good news, the strange news, the news that the doctors cannot explain, is that Uma continues to improve neurologically. When they lower her sedation levels, she still opens her eyes at the sound of her name. She continues to move a little bit on her right side, responding to sensation. Both of these neurological responses completely contradict the fact that she had a stroke. The doctor said that the stroke should nullify her neurological response level, but it hasn't. If anything, she's getting stronger—neurologically, at least.

That's because she's still freaking in there, fighting this thing. She's not giving up and we can't either. We have to keep the faith, keep hoping, keep praying. We have to visualize even more than we did before. With more focus. Because the Uma we know and love is fucking in there. And even though the CAT Scan results were the results we didn't want, even though her brain is waging a war on her body, we can't let the stroke and the swelling make us feel defeated. Fourteen fucking days ago—the day that Uma had her brain aneurysm—the doctor told us that Uma wouldn't live through the day—and here she is on DAY FREAKING FOURTEEN. She is a fighter and she is the most stubborn person I know. In a good way. Too stubborn to let a stroke get the fuck in her way. So we can't let the stroke get the fuck in our way either. (Sorry for all of the "fucks," but I know Uma wouldn't want me to hold my tongue.) Today is a day where we honor love, so let's keep sending heaps of it to Uma.

More good news, more reason for hope: She hasn't had any new aneurysms. The coil on her aneurysm is still working, it's still holding tight. The spinal fluid in her drain tube is getting clearer and clearer, which means that the blood in her brain is continuing to drain.

More scary news: The doctor said that it looks like the brain tissue in the area where the stroke occurred is dead. But then he said that sometimes young people can recover from that, they can use the rest of their brain to make up the difference. The doctor urged us not to give up hope, and so, if you get nothing else from this email, I want you to get that: DO NOT GIVE UP HOPE. We need to hope harder than ever before. And that message isn't just coming from the doctors:

I was taking a taxi back to Julie's house last night, after we got the news about the stroke, and I made a couple of phone calls—I called my mom, I called Erica, I called Marie—and then I hung up my cell phone and the cab driver looked at me through the rear-view mirror. "Anything can happen," he said. "Don't give up hope, you can't." (I swear that this is an exact quote from the cab driver, I wrote down everything he said as soon as he dropped me off.) He told me a story about his father and how his father had survived two strokes, and "you can't listen to the doctors, they just say what they say. Okay, maybe they know some things, but they don't know everything the body and mind are capable of. Your friend can get through this." I told him Uma's name and he promised to pray for her.

Alright, so: Today is Valentine's Day and I know this is kinda last minute, but let's make today an Uma Valentine's Day:

--Uma's favorite color is green, so if you haven't gotten dressed for the day yet, wear something green instead of the old Valentine's red cliché. The pukier and brighter the green, the better.

--If you've already gotten dressed and you're already out in the world, draw a green heart on your hand. If anyone asks you what the green heart's all about, tell them it's for your friend Uma, tell them you're hopeful, get them thinking about Uma too.

--I know that I gave out this directive sometime last week, and I already kinda said this in the second paragraph up above, but today's all about love, and it's worth repeating, so I'll say it again: call up your loved ones and let them know how much they mean to you. And not just because it's Valentine's Day, but because it's Uma Valentine's Day and you mean it and you want them to know.

--Visualize brain swelling going down. Visualize speech. Visualize memory. Visualize Uma waking the hell up. Visualize her smile. Visualize your love going into her brain and making her stronger.

Thank you,
and love,
Erik

12 of 12, February

There hasn't really been anything normal about the last couple of weeks, but I am hoping and praying for some normalcy soon (in the form of Uma waking the hell up). The doctor asked us to keep our hopes up today, and I was kinda down for a few hours this afternoon, but that ain't doing anyone any good, especially Uma, so "hopeful" is pretty much all I am right now. I am filled with hope and love.

I am clapping my hands for Uma to wake up!

In an effort to do something that feels somewhat normal, I've decided to participate in Chad Darnell's 12 of 12, which I haven't done in several months. The following photos are mostly from this evening. The first part of the day was too stressful for photos.

Oh, and these photos aren't in any particular order, and I don't know what time they were taken at (sorry Chad).

This first one is of me walking to Starbucks (where I am right now) at the end of the day, after hospital visiting hours have ended (approximately 11pm):


This is one of the ambulances outside the hospital, also approximately 11pm:

This is a button that gets a lot of action:

Okay, the irony of the next photo is that this sign is posted right by the elevators and this is totally where we all do all of our cell phone talking:

Here's the hallway that leads to Uma's ICU room (Uma, when you wake up and read this, I want you to imagine so many of your loved ones hanging out in this hallway, waiting for a moment to go hang out with you, because this hallway has been filled with love for you) (Chad said that the theme for this month's "bonus photo" is love, but I'm not doing a bonus photo because all of these photos are love for you) (remind me to tell you about the Uma-Loompa song that Eleanor, Erica, and I made up for you last night) (it's kinda dirty, so I won't print the lyrics here) (and besides, you should hear the song before any of the rest of my blog readers):

This is the sign by the door that leads into the room where we spend most of our time:

We drink a lot of Starbucks, and no one will own up to owning the Ya Ya Sisterhood book that's been on this table for several days:

Aaron Case brought you this rock, and that's the charm that Sian gave me (which I've been using to pray with):

Okay, I don't have time to tell the story of this next photo right now because Starbucks is about to close, but we totally almost got kicked out of the Chinese Restaurant we had dinner at:

I didn't take the next photo, I think Bill took it...Vandalize the World for Uma!:

Another vandalism pic, I love this one:

They are kicking me out of Starbucks, I'm not even sure if that was 12 pictures or not.

HOPE and LOVE. Keep spreading it, please.

ADDENDUM: I'm back at my Aunt's apartment (actually, she's my Step Great-Aunt) and I just received several Uma Vandalization photos, and I'm adding them here as 12 of 12 "bonus" photos because the Bonus Photo Theme was "love" and Vandalizing the World for Uma is all about love.