There are moments that
change our lives forever . . .

  Michael quietly met the doctor right inside Elizabeth's
room. He motioned toward the hall, and they didn't speak
until the door was firmly closed behind them.

  "Well?" The question was stark, asked roughly by a
man sandwiched between a myriad of dreadful
possibilities. He could barely breathe waiting for the news.

  "It's not a brain tumor, like we feared, Michael."

  "Thank God." Limp with releif, he sagged against the
wall, his eyes closing briefly. Nothing, he was sure,
could be worse than that suspicion.

  "Then what is it? Do you know?"

  Dr. Jones said nothing, merely held out a peice of
paper. Michael looked at it and his mouth went dry and
his heart was suddenly beating so hard his chest hurt . . .