Last week I was exhausted because I had a zillion things to do each night after work. No problem. I got done with the week and decided to relax over the weekend. Only, I thought I was getting sick and I thought I got poison ivy. I didn't know (I've never had it before!), but that's what everybody kept telling me. So, I treated the poison ivy (on my cheek, right under my eye) and slept a lot.
Monday came along and I was still exhausted, but my poison ivy looked to be almost gone. Only, my cheek looked a little puffy. Must've been because I hadn't caught up on my sleep. Or I was getting a sinus infection from blowing my nose since NOVEMBER.
Tuesday, the right side of my face started to swell. My kids were telling me it looked bad and one 6th grade girl asked, "Have you seen a doctor yet?) Tuesday night, it got worse. A LOT. By this point, I started thinking if it continued to get worse maybe I should go to the doctor. Wednesday morning, I looked like I'd been in a fight. I got to work for 7:15, told the boss I was going to the doctor's on my prep period & lunch and I told all my kids I was going to the doctors. By this time, I was getting a little freaked out because now my eyelid was swelling and it was harder to keep my eye open. I could see okay...when said eye was open.
So, I got to the doctor's and she walked into the room and what did she say first? Her eyes widened, she stopped short and said, " Whoa!" I can tell you this was NOT reassuring OR comforting. We spent a good bit of time running down my medical history and my last five days. Eventually she gave me a prescription, told me she doesn't know what to tell me ("Maybe a spider bite? I don't know.") and that if I don't see any improvement by tonight I MUST go back to the after-hours clinic.
As I drove away, my writer's mind comes up with this scenario: I go back because it keeps getting worse. The clinic calls for an ambulance to whisk me to the ICU. I'm kept in isolation because they can't figure out what flesh-eating thing is attacking me, I give a sweet, tearful goodbye to my own hero and then I die. Course, shortly after my death they figure out the cure.
I'm happy to report the drugs are working and my swollen face is starting to take on its orginal shape. Somewhat. I can see better and I can see a great improvement. And so I go on...
Yesterday my 100 words a day/ 100 days challenge with the Austin RWA group ended. I'm psyched with the story I have, but I'm SOOOOOOOO glad the challenge is over! I think we all are. It's a tall order to write like that, especially when you've never done that. I've always written only when the mood strikes. I came out of the challenge with close to 56,000 words.
22 days of school left. 3 field trips, a few guest speakers, a play, 2 graduations (K & 7th), and 3 more projects for each of my 3 classes. We'll be busy right up until the end.
Now that I'm taking a break from my Scottish contemporary (still not sure whether it's short, long or single title), I'm jotting down scenes on two stories. One, of course is emergng to be more important. It's the one I already have 100 pages on. And yet, the characters seem so different than when I first wrote them. Like they're more mature. (Kinda grew up while I was writing the first draft of my Scottish story, you know, like the babies grow up on soap operas!) I'm looking forward to exploring them again and in a lot more detail. But wait, could it be that I've grown up as a writer after my Scottish manuscript? Perhaps!
And last, I'm hooked on a TV show again. I vowed years ago when my last favorite show got cancelled that I would NEVER get that attached to fictional characters again. Sadly I see myself falling feet first with no ground in sight. The show, you wonder? The Unit. I've always loved TV shows about military men. Ultimate heroes, in my book. From The A-Team (Yes, The A-Team! It was about a military unit on the run from the government for a crime they didn't commit) to Tour Of Duty, to Over There. (I'm sure there are others, I just can't think of them.) I didn't allow myself to get too attached to Over There because I was afraid it would get cancelled. And sure enough, it did. I wasn't going to get attached to this show, The Unit, either, but it's happening. I can't stop it, can't control it. And I don't really know if I want to. I can tell you this, although I've barely started Susan Elizabeth Phillip's AIN'T SHE SWEET?, I won't be reading that until later. I've got to go hunt me down a book about some hot military men!