Early, early this morning, my baby went back to San Francisco. I'm really going to miss him. It was a terrible way to get a lot of time together to talk, but he is also a tower of strength, and one who is happy to share it.
Today is the birthday eve. Terumi has always been very superstitious about birthdays. It's his theory that men die before their birthdays and women die afterwards. I don't know if he knows what the date is, but he might hear it during the day, and so we're going to spend the night. I say "we" because there are three other ladies I always see in the waiting room, and I know the Indian lady whose daughter is in ICU always spends the night there. The idea is to stay with him until midnight, and then it will be too late to take the train home. Masato urges me not to do it, but maybe I'll decide later.
Since he had surgery yesterday, he's quite tired today, so I decided to stay. As I told Masato, this one is easy . . . we'll just breathe together. His nurse, Jen, and I counted down to midnight with no problem. We wished him a happy birthday, and he smiled and remained asleep.
Deborah, who went to visit her in-laws in Arizona, wrote this to me today:
"Vernon's dad said a prayer and sang a blessing song on mr. T's behalf when we were at Kitt Peak today. Navajos consider mountains to be sacred. We all touched corn pollen to our lips and foreheads and sprinkled it in a circle over the ground. "
"They said I might be able to get some herbs to burn in the hospital room, but I don't think they would go for that in intensive care! I will try to come up with something more in line with rules and regs "
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