Grandma and Grandpa

The Family

His father, Seymour

His siblings, Caren and Allen

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This issue of Newsline is dedicated to my family and friends and my physician, who has asked to remain nameless because he doesn't want credit for just doing his job. To him, I say "THANK YOU" and that you are a hero in this epidemic of unmatched proportion.

My parents sit next to me
on either side
in that cold and sterile smelling
exam room with the mucous green
medicine cabinet.
We are waiting for the doctor
waiting for the results of repeated
tests and probes and tortures
that have yet
to tell us anything about
my fevers of unknown origin.
My FUOs, UFOs of the blood.
Sweat on their foreheads—
cold clammy hands touch.
We are locked in a silent moment
by the bonds of of love
and the fear of death.
"Everything will be all right," says dad,
to break the silence.
"We can deal with anything."
Dad has been reading alot of Norman Cousins
lately. Mom asks about dinner and begins
chatting about the insignificant.
The doctor appears.
"It's probably not lymphoma, and the other tests
are negative so far. I don't know what it is."
He tells the truth. We are relieved for the moment.
I love these people and the strength they give me
to go on.
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