Friday, September 07, 2007

Shoot me

Charles here

I was planning to write about promotion, sticking to the theme so well developed by my blog partner Mr. Blechta, but then on Tuesday morning something happened which sort of distracted me. I woke up, oh let’s say at 3am, with this amazingly painful stomach cramp, the likes of which I am now certain few humans have experienced and live to tell of. By 5am I was at the hospital – or, for my Canadian blog-mates, I was at hospital – waiting for the prognosis. A mere 5 hours and 4 x-rays later I learned that I a) was not pregnant and b) was going to be just fine in “a short while”.

A “short while” is one of those terms that is subject to interpretation. For someone who feels that their insides are just dying to be outsides, a short while is, say, 2 minutes. For a doctor in her fancy-dancy smock, a short time apparently is 20+ hours. As for medications to deal with the cramping, I come from the ‘yes, please’ school of thought. On this point the doctor – a graduate of the Marquise de Sade School of Medicine – disagreed. Much to my surprise, I recovered in the predicted time frame, a lucky and fortuitous guess on the doctor’s part.

So why do I tell you this when I could be writing about the completion of my new manuscript, the imminent launch of Noble Lies or how I recently signed with a noted literary agent? Because, dear reader, on Tuesday morning at, say, 4am, I honestly thought that I wouldn’t make it to see 9am and was reminded, not for the first time I assure you, that all that I have accomplished is naught but the proverbial Dust in the Wind (not the Kansas song mind you, the older, more poetic D in the W), that the only thing that mattered was my relationship with those I loved and who loved me, and that the greatest of those was Rose, my best friend, my soul mate, my life partner.

But then, thanks to the miracle that is modern medicine (a.k.a. Milk of Magnesia) I rejoined the ranks of the living, and such notions of mortality and meaninglessness and futility slipped away and I focused yet again on the present – and the simple fact that I have a new book launching in less than a month and have not booked nearly enough signing yet.

Illness is wasted on me.


Rick Blechta said...

If I'd been you, I would have been lying there wondering, "What would Larry Block do?"

Glad you're feeling better!

Anonymous said...

Who's Larry Block