A reunion with family. A reprieve from the monotony of life in a dusty Nepal refugee camp, from food rations and joblessness. An escape from the dangers of political uprisings and elephant stampedes. An opportunity for the next generation to receive a real schooling, to prosper someday.

For Jasoda Tamang, her devoted husband, Pema, and their two sons, a ticket to the United States meant all of this and more: It was also her best chance for survival, the best opportunity to get the medical care she needed.

Jasoda, 25, has been sick since childhood. For nine months last year, the doctors in Nepal tested her for tuberculosis. Her family was slated for resettlement in Concord, but they wouldn't be accepted if she had such a highly contagious disease.

Each time, the results came back negative. But, as Pema recounted, the doctors told his wife that her lung infections were so acute that she "cannot exist."

"My wife is my everything," Pema said. "Future and the world, let me say."

Distant Hope - In Nepal slideshow

Distant Hope - In Concord slideshow

When the family arrived in Concord on a snowy December night to a warm welcome from Pema's siblings and parents already here, his tiny, quiet wife, weighing less than 90 pounds, was weary. She had a watery cough and pain in her chest.

Weeks later, Pema, 27, would better know the inside of Concord Hospital's intensive care unit than he would the apartment complex that was their new home.

He spent each day and night at the bedside of his wife. As the days mounted, with Jasoda on a ventilator and feeding tube, infection raging in her body, he questioned whether he had made the right choices for his family. Now in a place where he believed anything was possible, Pema began to lose hope. He worried that, after this long journey, he might lose his everything.

Early on a February school day, Pema helped his sons, 6-year-old Bishal and 7-year-old Binay, dig through a basket of winter clothes in a bedroom of their Loudon Road apartment to find matching gloves. He pulled on their snow pants and zipped their winter coats.

Later that day, Pema and Jasoda would visit her doctor and learn the date when they would begin what could be the most difficult piece of their journey to a new life in Concord - the date that Jasoda would be admitted to Concord Hospital for surgery to remove sections of her lungs.

But first, Pema prepared the boys for school. Fully dressed, Binay sat at the kitchen table for breakfast: warm milk and ramen noodles. Bishal pouted in the corner of the living room. Pema called him to the table, but he wouldn't come.

"My small son doesn't like to eat in the morning," Pema said as he squatted next to Bishal, blowing on a mug of warm milk. "Drink milk. Be healthy."

The boys hurried off to the bus, dribbles of milk on the front of their coats. Pema ran down the hall after them to deliver the half-peeled hard-boiled eggs forgotten on the kitchen table.

As her family began the day, Jasoda slept soundly in the bedroom.

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