West Palm Beach, Florida.

The latest rumor is that Dr. Paley will be headed to St. Mary's Medical Center in West Palm Beach, Florida. While there is nothing official on either the hospital website or his own personal page, our inside sources (yep...I have sources...my journalism professors would be so proud) are saying that's his destination. And after a quick google search of the area, it would certainly make sense. Downtown Baltimore or palm trees and long sandy beaches? I'll take "move south" for $100, Alex.
Granted, none of this affects Emily's schedule, as her super-hip surgery won't happen until summer of 2010. In fact, it's probably beneficial to have the move take place now, giving Paley more than a year to get everything set up to his liking before we go under the knife. Nevertheless, it's nice to have an idea of what's coming down the pipe.
More to come once something concrete is announced.

DeLuca's on board.

Walking into our appointment on Monday, I wasn't sure exactly what to expect.
I thought about a long wait in the lobby. I thought about a minor confrontation when we didn't see eye-to-eye with the doctor's opinion. I thought about where we would go to get something to eat afterwards.
But I really wasn't terribly concerned about any of it. We have the Ace of Paley tucked up our sleeve. We're feeling good.
But DeLuca surprised us. We discussed Emily's x-rays and what the possibilities were. He talked about how difficult lengthening would be. We told him about our meeting with Paley and the confidence he had expressed. He agreed. It's all possible. We can do this. And he can help.
DeLuca is very different from Paley. He's more conservative. He didn't bathe us in sunshine or make any bold promises. He made sure we were aware of exactly what lay ahead, for good or ill. We knew.
In the end, we just wanted to know if he can be there for us. He's close by. He's experienced. He's connected. And he's on board.
In about three months, we'll be seeing him again. This time, to help Ems get fitted for a shoe lift or prosthetic or whatever it is that's going to help her motor around.
The team is coming together.

How things change.

I find it hard to believe we have come this far. 

This weekend we saw the baptism of Emily's first BFF, Kate and her family took part in their annual Easter Egg Hunt up in the Berkshires and I divided my time equally between basketball and trying to fight off this poison sumac/oak/ivy that seems to be taking over my right arm, Matrix-style. Just living the suburban dream, we are. 

Oh...and we have an appointment with Dr. DeLuca tomorrow. 

You may remember this gentleman. He's the local orthopedist we've been meeting with since Ems was two days old. He's kind, intelligent and well-respected. 

He also said it would probably make the most sense to amputate. 

This appointment was scheduled months ago. We were told to go home and enjoy our daughter. Come back in April and we'll see how she's progressed. 

Then we met Dr. Paley. And our world changed.

We have been consumed with joy and confidence since that meeting six weeks ago. Something about a surgeon looking you dead in the eye and telling you what he can do...what he will do...to say it was a transcendant experience might only understate it a little bit. 

And if I may wildly oversimplify four major surgeries and years of recovery for our little girl, all that was left to determine was where Paley would be setting up his new digs so that we could begin making arrangements. The latest rumor is that he will be heading to a different hospital in Baltimore or somewhere in Florida. So apparently not much has changed since this process began.  

But let us deal with the immediate future. Tomorrow, Dr. DeLuca will look at Emily's legs and probably tell us how significant the discrepancy is going to be and how amputation continues to make the most sense. We will thank him for the information and talk about our meeting with Dr. Paley. We can only hope he will be supportive as it would be a great help to have him in our corner. Regardless, we are on the attack. Join the fight or get out of the way.

Just a short time ago, my stomach would have been in knots this close to an appointment. I would have been distracted and, at best, distant during work tomorrow. In the parking lot at the doctor's office, I would have done my best not to tear up as I prepared for the worst. 

We're nowhere close to the end. But we have come so far.