'Sup?

So, again I’m guessing you’ve noticed I haven’t been blogging at all lately, which means my previous vow to blog through thick and thin was nothing but a dirty stinkin’ lie.

However, here’s the thing:  this summer has pretty much been a complete medical nightmare for me, and I just couldn’t really see talking about that every few days.  Everyone seems to be having a rough time these days, so I know I’m not alone, and everyone has plenty on their minds without me giving a blow by blow of another sucky day I’m having.  So, that’s pretty much why I haven’t written in a while.  Deal.

I will admit to finding clever ways to whine a bit though (at least I think they’re clever).  Like yesterday I went to see my RA doc and I said, “In the last five weeks I’ve had the worst pain I’ve experienced since I was diagnosed, but I’m thankful that I can sit hear and tell you about it.  (He rolled his eyes.)

I find myself worrying about my relationship with my doctor.  I really like the guy and I think he’s a great doc, but . . . He is extremely thorough in his examination (which normally is a good thing since most docs seem to try to set a land speed record for getting you out of their office), but part of my doc’s examination is to check and manipulate every joint in my body.  He has a gift for just feeling a joint and knowing how much pain I’m experiencing; I rarely have to say a word.  However, and here’s the big However, the exam really hurts; like call out your mama’s name hurts.  And it takes me several days to get over all the pain and swelling from just the exam.  So my dilemma is:  why do I like a doc that hurts me so much?  I mean, come on, that’s really kind of twisted.  And worse, I pay him to do it.

I left his office with a handful of new and stronger prescriptions, my name on the nurse’s chalkboard for all the cuss words that slipped out during the exam, a new appointment scheduled in a month, and a warning that next time I hurt that bad I should call sooner. 

Say what?  I’m here to tell you I didn’t put up with it.  Oh sure I took the prescriptions, apologized for my potty mouth, and will make the next appointment (God willing), but there was no way I was going to take the blame for not calling sooner.  I looked my doc straight in the eye and said, “It’s not my fault I waited so long to come in.  I tell you I’m experiencing the worst pain in my life and you expect me to think rationally.  That’s just silly.  That’s like going up to some guy you just ran over with your car and saying, ‘Didn’t you see me coming?’” (He rolled his eyes again.)

I am hopeful that some of the med changes we are making will help me get back on my feet, and that I’ll be able to get back to writing again soon.  I’ve lost momentum on several of my projects, like I still don’t have a cover for Fighter’s Bane and stuff like that, but I have been working out a storyline for a new manuscript and I’m pretty excited about how it’s coming together.  So, cross your fingers that the meds work, and hopefully I’ll be telling you about my new story in a few months.