Here's a little frustrating news for a Thursday morning. Yesterday, Em and Jim spent the night at our house. Why? Because she has an appointment with the surgeon this morning at 8 (in ten minutes). The frustrating thing is that we don't know any more than we did yesterday. Or six weeks ago. Six weeks. That's how long we have been waiting for test results for a test that, evidently, doesn't exist.

How does this happen? The Interventional Radiologist (the guy who did the needle biopsy) told Em that they would sent the tissue out for the genetic test. She told the surgeon that she was waiting for the test results so everything went on hold. Em called the surgeon's office every few days and was told repeatedly, "no results, yet". After a few weeks, she started calling the pulmonologist (who supposedly ordered the test) and they took several days to return her calls. Only to tell her that there was no such test. Needless to say, Em was incredulous. She called the surgeon's office and he is seeing her this morning. He said something about surgery very soon.

So, soon we should have resolution. The PET scan showed that the tumor is localized and there doesn't seem to be any other suspicious activity any where else and all of the other scans show a well defined mass with no bone involvement. The signs look good for complete removal and complete recovery. I'll let you know.

Em and Jim were on the train with us this morning. They were behind us and in the reflection of the train window, I could watch her and she didn't know I was watching. I realized (again) how very precious that face is to me. I felt the tears start to roll down my face and it took a few minutes to collect myself so I could get off the train and face the day.

So, in honor of Emily Jane, here's one of my very favorite poems.


Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise

I'm a black ocean,
leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling
I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou


ETA: Emily is scheduled for surgery on Tuesday. Hopefully, they'll be able to remove the entire thing at that time. She said it'll depend on what they find. Finally, a date. Things can get taken care of and we can all get back to our regularly scheduled lives.