AT SIX A.M. on Monday of the following week, Julian arrived to pick up Lacey for her biopsies. The moon was bright in the sky, reflecting light back from the snow. Their breath puffed out white clouds and their feet crunched as they walked to the car in the still morning air. The pine trees stood like giant sentinels, guarding the pristine landscape. Oh, how I love this place! I've always loved this place, but the threat of dying makes me appreciate it even more. "So what is this they're gonna do to you, this medistopy thing?" Julian asked as they got into the car.

"I am having two biopsies, one called a bronchoscopy and another called a mediastinoscopy. Basically, they're going to look inside my lungs and at my lymph nodes and extract small pieces of tissue to test for malignancy."

"Ugh! Sounds awful."

"Yes, well it is necessary." She didn't share her nervousness with him; wished Jana were with her instead.

When they arrived at admitting, Julian escorted her to the hospital entrance. "I'll be back in six hours." He looked down and scuffed his feet awkwardly, and then gave a small wave and left.

Inside, Lacey filled in forms, one, she noted grimly, disclaiming the hospital and doctors from any responsibility should she die this day. She changed into a hospital gown and lay down on a gurney. Someone strapped her down. Someone else put an IV needle in her arm, just above her wrist. Everyone spoke to her in cheerful tones. The glare of fluorescent lights shone down on her face as she was wheeled into the operating room. "Hello, my dear," said another cheerful voice, belonging, she assumed, to a doctor whom Lacey had never met, and who's name she could not now recall. Soon she was floating in a haze of narcotic softness, lulled into relaxation and momentarily released from the awfulness of this day. "If you can start counting back now, from one hundred."