Alicia has been moved out of the ICU to another floor where she can rest a bit more comfortably but still receive the same level of care. She has been happy visiting with people from all over who are coming into San Francisco to spend time with her.
There are friends from high school and college, visitors from all over California and Nevada, and people flying in from exotic locales like Berlin and Hawaii. Alicia is (clearly) much loved and people are coming from all over to visit with Ms. Parlette and say their goodbyes. They bring scrapbooks and clutch handfuls of pictures, cards with glitter and ribbons, and sweet treats for our friend. The waiting room is a reunion of sorts and people from all the different parts of her life coming back together. Others are meeting for the first time.
Most everyone has an electronic device in hand, and we’re working furiously to get the message out to all of Alicia’s friends that they should come visit her. We’re Tweeting, Facebooking, blogging, laughing, e-mailing, crying. There are so many logistics and requests: where can Russell stay when he comes in? Does someone have a tape recorder Alicia can use if she wants to dictate a post? How does Courtney get from Sacramento down to San Francisco? Where is that paperwork that Alicia signed yesterday?
The best word to describe the situation is that it is a bittersweet experience. I want to scream and cry and shout because I am so flippin pissed about Alicia’s condition, but I also want to hug and love and trade stories with all her friends. As one of the people working on her site(s – we have one with more logistical information for people visiting), I am alternately excited (we got a PayPal button implemented! so-and-so wrote back and is posting a story about Alicia on their blog!) and deeply saddened and touched. There was an email this morning from a woman, a friend of Alicia’s and a cancer survivor, who wrote:
I am in Jerusalem at this momnet and thinking of Alicia. I will say a prayer for her at the western wall tomorrow.