Cozy Con is over. (See previous entry) All my author friends have gone home. My latest book is done and the next not yet begun. I’m waiting for the advance reading copy of The Wrong Hill to Die On to be sent to me for final corrections, but I haven’t received it yet. I have started making notes for a short story – something quite different from my books. Haven’t actually written the story, though. I haven’t seen the new cover yet. Below is an early version, but I am told that it will be completely redone:
In fact, writing is pretty much in limbo. Don and I spend our days getting ready for the next operation on May 29. He has gotten the requisite clearances. In the next few days we finish up the tests. Next week a trip to the hospital for the pre-op conference. I’m trying to get all the necessities of life taken care of before the next round of caretaking. He’ll be in the hospital for a week or so, and so will I. We have no relatives here, so when Don is post-op, I come home only to sleep. Then after he is released, he’ll need nursing up close and personal for a while. So the plan is: if it needs doing, get it done right now, baby.
A friend of mine commented that what we have been going through for the past three years sound like hell, but the truth is that it’s more like war. Long periods of drudgery interspersed with periods of abject terror. Actually, there are long stretches during recuperation that are very sweet, just him and me, talking a lot about mortality, waxing philosophical on the meaning of it all.
I’m busy right now with all the getting-ready, but we’re both feeling calm and businesslike, old campaign veterans. But past experience leads me to believe that as time grows nearer, I, at least, am about to undergo another terrifying battle in the war.
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