When Frank McGlynn needs his wife by his bedside, it takes a team of political allies, doctors and the University of Pittsburgh to cut through the bureaucratic red tape.

Letter campaigns to the U.S. State Department begin. Daily calls to local politicians offices are made. And Mr. McGlynn, who just needs to know his wife, Lourdes Tabares Neyra, will be by his side after a number of surgeries, tries to cope with the pain as he yet again reschedules a flight, an operation and another chance to see her.

Their long-distance marriage is more than a relationship separated by thousands of miles; it is one separated by two competing political ideas and two long-standing political foes -- Cuba and the United States.

Mr. McGlynn, an anthropology professor at Pitt's Greensburg campus, has been plagued by recent health problems -- a brain tumor in 2005 and a subsequent procedure on his windpipe last month -- but his biggest concern was making sure his Cuban wife would be waiting when he emerged from the operating room.

"The doctors said my health was deteriorating because of the situation," said Mr. McGlynn. Mrs. Tabares Neyra, who is a professor at the University of Havana, was finally granted U.S. entry on a Humanitarian Parole Visa , which is granted to loved ones or family members in emergency situations when their presence is needed.

But asking for his wife has become its own affliction in recent years, as Cubans traveling to the United States face heightened scrutiny in a post-9/11 world.

In March, 55 Cuban scholars were barred from attending the Latin American Studies Association's International Congress in San Juan, Puerto Rico. The denials were based on federal law covering visits deemed detrimental to U.S. interests and irked professors and scholars who petitioned the government because they believed the Cubans posed no risk to the country.

To get his wife here, Mr. McGlynn rescheduled flight plans, operating dates and doctors appointments 14 times before the procedure on his windpipe last month.

While awaiting word from the State Department, Mr. McGlynn enlisted the help of neurosurgeons, the offices of two prominent Republicans, U.S. Rep. Melissa Hart and U.S. Sen. Rick Santorum, as well as the University of Pittsburgh faculty and staff.

"It was frustrating at times when there wasn't an answer from the State Department," said Mark Harley, a constituent representative who handles immigration matters for Ms. Hart's office. Mr. Harley successfully worked to get Mr. McGlynn's wife here for his 2005 brain tumor operation and again for his procedure last month.

"It's difficult with the millions of applicants they are dealing with because somebody becomes just a number and they lose their identity," he said. "That can take the humanness out of the applicant to the point they become just another file."

Mr. Harley said that in a span of one year it seemed even more difficult trying to get permission for Mrs. Tabares Neyra to come.

"In this case, Dr. Tabaers [Neyra] had been in the country before and she had complied with all the requirements," said Jeanne Stoner, assistant vice chancellor for federal government relations at Pitt. Mrs. Stoner said the humanitarian aspect of Mr. McGlynn's case was impetus for all of the offices working to get her here. "Her past history had always showed compliance."

Mr. McGlynn and his wife met in 1999 and they married in 2002 and both have children from previous marriages. As an anthropology professor who specializes in the post-colonialism and post-plantation era of Afro-Cubans, he has been to Cuba on several occasions.

Though his Spanish is limited, Mr. McGlynn said he and Mrs. Tabares Neyra have never had a problem understanding one another.

"Every relationship is a little hard with long distances," said Mr. Harley. "Some people are separated by a few hundred miles, they are separated by a Communist government and Democratic government and several thousand miles."