#nanowrimo Writing Interrupted


by Lillian Csernica on November 16, 2019

I don’t know about you, but I’m having an extremely difficult year. Deaths and departures. The usual endless chaos at home, making sure we have enough aides and nursing staff for Michael. Courtrooms and Emergency Rooms and making room for my writing amid all the uproar.

And now, right in the middle of #nanowrimo, my gall bladder decided to declare war.

I was going to post a gallbladder graphic here, but no.

I spent most of the week between last Friday and today at a local hospital after I took myself to the Emergency Room for really nasty stomach pains. Many tests and much painful prodding revealed that my gall bladder was well on its way to causing me serious damage.

The hospital drama blew my mind. They wanted to send me home to make an appointment with the appropriate doctor in “three or four days.”

I’ll say one thing for this year. It’s put some serious steel into my spine. I repeated back to the doctors everything they’d just told me and demanded to know how they could send me home when they KNEW a medical crisis was imminent. I don’t know if I was persuasive enough or intimidating enough or just plain loud enough. They admitted me and the surgery took place last Saturday.

They discharged me on Sunday, less than 24 hours later, with no apparent regard for me still being on the big time painkillers you can’t get outside of hospitals. I hadn’t walked the ward, my gut motility had not resumed, none of the fundamental criteria for even considering discharge status. Yes, I could breathe, and no, I wasn’t bleeding to death. Apparently those two were sufficient.

And so they sent me home. They also forgot to give me back the bag of my regular medications I’d brought from home. You never know when some of your meds won’t be available in a particular hospital. I didn’t notice the glaring absence of my meds at the time because I was busy recovering from major abdominal surgery.

Two and a half hours after my husband drove me home, he was on the phone to 911. The pain had me in such a vicious grip I could not inhale without trying to scream. In the ambulance I was in such bad shape the paramedic didn’t bother with an IV. She had me ingest liquid painkiller by the simple expedient of soaking some gauze in the liquid form, sticking it up my nose, and commanding me to inhale as hard as I could.

The Emergency Room was not happy to see me again. I’m afraid I rather lost my temper with the doctor on duty who tried to tell me the CT scan they’d just done showed everything looking fine after surgery. Why then, I asked, after you people took out the organ you claimed was causing the problem, am I now in far more intense pain?

That doctor did what I’ve seen other doctors do in similar situations, which was hand me off to the next doctor up the chain of command. This worthy gentleman read the chart, examined my surgical sites, asked me a few questions, then shook his head and said, “We sent you home too soon. I’m admitting you.”

Image result for royalty free clipart medicated

And so I spent Monday and Tuesday heavily medicated. They managed to lose one of my medications AGAIN, would not call the prescribing physician, and came within inches of me organizing a posse of lawyers to storm the bureaucratic barricades.

All this right in the middle of #nanowrimo. Did I get any writing done? As a matter of fact, I did. Armed with a notebook and pen provided by a writing buddy  who truly went above and beyond for me, I lay there and tried to keep my writing between the lines while this dear and treasured friend coaxed me through at least two word sprints.

My word count is currently at 14,220. I have to write 12, 452 words before midnight tonight in order to catch up. That’s 50 pages. Ouch.

I’m having a blast with these new Kyoto Steampunk stories when I can shut out everything else and concentrate. Right now I’m tired and I’m hurting and there are so many other things that needed to be done last week and five days in the hospital have left me even farther behind.

So cheer me on, people. Please. Help me get all the way to 50k.

12 Comments

Filed under Depression, doctors, Family, fantasy, Fiction, historical fiction, hospital, Kyoto, parenting, specialneeds, steampunk, surgery, Writing

12 responses to “#nanowrimo Writing Interrupted

  1. Wow. I don’t think I would be as dedicated to my writing under those circumstances! Feel better and congratulations on getting so many words written.

    Like

    • Thank you! Writing becomes an act of defiance against all the bad stuff that keeps happening this year. If I can keep on imagining the adventures of Dr. Harrington, then I’m still fighting the good fight.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Dear, Dear Lillian! You are one AMAZING lady. Carole-Jean here and I’ve been meaning to write since the post on dealing with the aftermath of the “stuff” you had to deal with after the death of your mother.

    I, too, was in the hospital around that time after a horrible car accident that put me in the trauma center ICU for three weeks. Not only did I not write a word during that time (I was focusing on breathing and staying alive) but I was not able to write anything until this year’s NaNo with the exception of a blog titled “Back From the Brink of Death” so my readers knew what was happening.

    I had YOU in mind as I forced myself to push out 1667 words on November 1. You have been my “rabbit” for the past couple of years. I must admit I was wondering how my word count passed yours some days back and it stalled me.

    So, my dear friend and writing hero – get your words out! If it were anybody else, I would say, just skip NaNo this year and spend your time healing and getting strong. But. This IS how you’re gonna get strong and recover. So write, write, write. I can’t believe you were able to get words on paper with all you had going on in the hospital. Hats off to your writing buddy!

    And a hearty shout-out to your husband as well.

    Sending your strength, love, and light.

    I’m gonna get on the stick with you. No, not a broomstick.

    Big Hugs, hero lady,
    Carole-Jean

    Like

  3. P.S. Compliments on your brilliant phraseology:
    “- put some serious steel into my spine”
    “vicious grip”
    “- organize a posse of lawyers to storm the beaurocratic barricades”
    This kind of talent keeps me going and striving to improve my own writing. Thank you!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I don’t know about the 50 pages, but I know you’ll catch up by the end of the month. Wish I’d been on hand with a two-by-four…

    Like

  5. Jeeze, Lillian. But do you feel better, at least?
    I’m so sorry to hear all of this, but what I hope is that in all this mess, at least now you feel better.

    I’m sorry for NaNo too, especially seeing that you are doing fine on that side. I’ve totally abandoned it this year. Too much on my plate already writing-wise.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Linda

    You could write a book about that gruesome tale. I’m glad you are on the mend.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Dear Lillian,
    Thanks for all your ML contributions. I’m leaving town tomorrow (Tues) and will be gone for a week. Sorry to miss the activities. I love the wrap-up party. Enjoy. Next year!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.