The weekend of the 18th went really well. I managed to get 20,000 words written in 2 days on my paranormal mystery. Monday morning, I added another two thousand or so. Then I ate lunch…
I have a consult September 4th to remove my gallbladder. It seems like an eternity. On the 20th, I ate lunch and then regretted it for the rest of the day. I felt queasy and every so often, the queasiness would turn into having to be on my knees – which is pure torture.
And I found myself in too much pain and with too much queasiness to work much that afternoon. I felt hot, then cold, shaky and dizzy, nauseated, then I’d vomit some, and then I basically just wanted to crawl in a hole and not move again until they took my gallbladder out.
At this point, I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care that my blood tests are coming back normal. I don’t care that it is probably related to my appetite hormone more than my actual gallbladder, I am tired of being derailed because I decided it had been a few days since I ate, I should go ahead and try it.
I just want my body to cooperate for an entire couple of days so I can get a book written. I have the entire paranormal mystery plotted out in my head. I know what happens next, let me get it written down damn it.
Fuck it, I’m publishing this immediately, maybe someone will have some advice while I wait on my nurse to call me back that doesn’t include a trip to the ER. I was at 24,978 words when I ate lunch, so there’s an idea of how much I’m enjoying this change of pace and writing an actual mystery. There’s a preview of the first chapter scheduled to run later this week, 3 of the 4 people I asked for the opinion of, got back to me and said it had great potential, the 4th had to do homework and didn’t get it read yesterday.