[img]2553|right|Diane||no_popup[/img]We are going to Boston in two weeks.
The miracle we have been hoping for seems to have happened.
An answer to our prayers.
We are ecstatic.
Massachusetts General Hospital called yesterday afternoon regarding treatment of Diane’s ALS condition, formally diagnosed 50 days ago.
Our extremely longshot chances of landing an appointment with an ALS specialist seem to have come to fruition.
Our appointment is for June 11, two weeks from this afternoon.
What are the chances of a blind cross-country telephone call – in competition with hundreds or thousands of ALS patients — winning a coveted visit with a premier specialist?
Much more is amorphous than known.
Cautiously optimistic would describe us, at least overtly.
A multitude of criss-crossing strings needs to be coordinated first, falling precisely into tantalizingly narrow slots, to reach our desired outcome.
When the contact person from Massachusetts General called at 1:08 yesterday, I was in the midst of interviewing Fire Chief Chris Sellers about his end-of-the-week retirement.
After apologizing for interrupting Mr. Sellers, I was so excited about the call that my mind converted to a muddy stream.
I could scarcely recall even the vital highlights a moment later when Diane inquired about the contents of the message.
Before anyone could change his mind, Diane made flight reservations for the most unusual journey of our marriage.
Unlike all other excursions we have undertaken, this is about saving her life, about qualitatively extending it, for years, we hope and pray.
