Much -ma for your friend, Jilli. Much much -ma. And hugs for you and his wife.

A bunch of the women bought gift cards for her husband and daughter, for take out places that serve food-food (not fast food) and restaurants between their house and the hospital, so that they could stop for convenience, and not have to worry about the all the money spent. I don't know if that's something you could do for your friend.

That is a very good idea, and I will check with the Organizing Duo to see if that is something that can be done.

Jilli, much ~ma for your friend. She must be so scared right now.

Is anyone around who can pester the hospital about giving her a place to rest that isn't the ICU but still in or very near the hospital? It seems like they'd have an alternative for her so she can be there at a moment's notice if something happens.

Cashmere, any more news on your mom?

I'm so sorry to hear that, Jilli.

pester the hospital about giving her a place to rest that isn't the ICU but still in or very near the hospital?

It's possible the hospital even has some sort of hostel arrangement nearby. I know the main hospital in Madison has one right across the street. We used it when my brother was in the hospital with cancer. That way one person could stay with Mike for a while, while the other crashed in the room. It was either very cheap or even free, I don't remember as my parents paid for it if anyone did.

If she's not too far away from the hospital, she could probably use a night at home, even if it is spent dreading the phone's ring.

If she's not too far away from the hospital, she could probably use a night at home, even if it is spent dreading the phone's ring.

Yep. And from what I remember, her home isn't too far from the hospital.

she cannot live in the waiting room, no matter how much she wants to

Excuse me? The only thing they ever told me was I couldn't live in a corner of the actual hospital room itself. Of course, granted, that would have been bad for me, but I'd have done it.

Gods. I don't know which is worse, being at home and fretting and feeling your heart clench at every phone call or being in the waiting room and watching the doors and tensing every time a member of staff came out and glanced your way.

12/18/04

12/23/04

12/26/04

12/28/04

1/1/05

1/1/05

1/4/05

Now it's time for more random thoughts, including more ordered thoughts, and stuff I forgot to put in before.

Apparently, Vimalbhai is what my mom calls a "sticky fingers." We have to keep things locked up and our valuables hidden. It's weird that we all know he's a thief but don't actually do anything about it.

We were over in Bardoli one night, eating pav bhaji, when we encountered this three- or four-year-old begging kid in dirty little clothes. Without saying a word, he held out his hand. We didn't give him anything. When we crossed the street to our car, he followed us. When we got in the car and locked the door, he put his outstretched hand against the window. He was the kind of freaky little kid who would be in a horror movie. You'd be driving home, and suddenly there he'd be in the middle of the road with his hand held out. You'd swerve to avoid hitting him and nearly kill yourself. When you got out to take a look, he'd be gone. You were just imagining things. And when you got home, he'd be there, waiting on your doorstep.

For the wedding, of course, the women decorated their hands and arms with mendhi (known as henna to the laypeople). Under pressure, my brother and I agreed to some small designs on our hands. I got a little flowery thing and an Om on my left hand. After it dries, you have to let it sit. I slept trying not to rub it off. In the morning, I scraped it off. It looked pretty cool. Vicks VapoRub apparently helps the color, as does keeping it from getting wet. It did get darker over the next couple days, but it's fading away now. Ashabhabi had ridiculously intricate designs all around both her arms past her elbows and on her feet several inches past her ankles. It took over seven hours to apply.

Ashabhabi is pretty nice. A little shy and soft-spoken, though she has kind of a deep voice. She's my age, but four months older. Nikky is 22, and her brother Mitesh is 19. While Mehulbhai's returning to America the 27th, she won't be able to go until June or July, due to the time it takes to get a visa approved and all.

We picked up our new glasses. Mine are pretty sweet, and they make me look damn sexy and sophisticated. The lenses, though, are way smaller than I'm used to. My field of clear vision is cut drastically. I can't look down with my eyes; I have to actually turn my head down. It's like I'm stuck in an adventure game. There's on other problem: both my sister and dad got half-frames, and their left lenses inexplicably fell out already. The invisible part is this flimsy clear thing that apparently has no adhesive on it. I'm afraid for mine.

We've found our favorite place to eat in Navsari: Shetty Pavbhaji Center. Really great masala dosas, pretty good pav bhaji, and really good Chinese food. We get this Manchurian dish. We always end up ordering more than we can eat. This last time, we fed our leftovers to some wild boars.

Sunday morning, I played around with some of the village kids who didn't even exist eight years ago. For some reason, little kids talking Gujarati is really cute, especially since their Gujarati is probably better than mine. I played catch with this older little kid who had a hell of an arm on him. We tossed a cricket ball back and forth.

Many trees have large red and white stripes painted on the bases of their trunks. This means they're protected by the government. I wonder the paint does to them.

Amitabh Bachchan is probably the (continued...)