I have not posted an update in a month because I wanted to wait until I had something worthwhile to say. Today, I do. However, it is of the good news and bad news variety. I guess I will start with the good news.
Yesterday I signed a contract to publish Molly’s Song. It has been a long and winding road, and I am grateful for all of you for walking it with me. Of course, you’ll have to stay tuned for more info (cover reveal, release date, etc) and I will keep you posted as I get the updates. That’s about it for the good news. Let’s go on to the bad.
The week prior to Thanksgiving, I had another major flare up of spinal pain. I called my doctor and she recommended that I go ahead and get a procedure done that might help alleviate some of it. The procedure was scheduled for Monday, December 7th. However, by Thanksgiving Day, I felt relatively normal again. I watched the somewhat subdued Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade which is my annual tradition. (My favorite part is the seeing the Rockettes). However, my doctor and I made the decision to go ahead with the injections because my flare ups are getting worse, lasting longer, and coming closer together. That, Dear Readers, was a colossal mistake.
The procedure itself went fine. However, by the time I got home, I was in some serious pain. I’ve had this procedure done a few times over the past several years and, while it didn’t always help me, it never left me worse off. Until now. The next few days were miserable and I spent most of them in bed on ice packs. Finally, by Thursday evening, I felt like I was back to my pre-procedure pain levels. (That’s still higher than normal, but not nearly as bad as earlier in the week).
Then Friday came around. The day started off like every other pandemic day. I handled work stuff on the computer for a good chunk of the day. I stopped around 3pm and laid down to rest my back. By 3:30, I had a fever, chills, and later night sweats. I got up this morning with a slight headache and an aching chest. I was able to go get tested for the Rona today, but they said it will be three to five days before I get the results. I could be totally fine by then. Or totally dead. I guess we’ll see.
I had not left the house for around three weeks prior to my procedure and had not left the house since the procedure either. The surgical center is the only possible place I could have gotten it, despite wearing an N-95 mask the entire time I was there, and latex gloves up until I had to take them off for them to start the IV. But I sanitized my hands as soon as I got into the car to leave. The frustrating thing is, if what I suspect is true, and I contracted the Rona while there, I didn’t really need the procedure in the first place. Or rather, I did need it, but then improved ahead of time and should have cancelled.
I am typing this on Saturday afternoon. So far today, my temperature has stayed below 99, but I still have chills, chest tightness, and a mild headache. So if you don’t hear an update from me for a while, just know that it is probably because I have finally caught the virus, after being so incredibly careful for eight months. And to get it now that a vaccine is on the horizon and we are about to reach the beginning of the end is the same sort of cruel irony that has plagued me my entire life.
Until next time, Dear Readers, take care of yourselves. And each other.