Too Close for Comfort

My partner Linda is a healthy, fit, and very active 50 year old. When she had a flu a few weeks ago we didn’t think much of it. When she felt noticeably worse on May 9 (a Friday), we still didn’t think much of it. Half the world had flu, we thought, and we’d surely run into them all if we went to the ER to get her checked out. So we didn’t.

The day wore on, and Linda was feeling worse and worse. We kept calling people to see what they thought, but what we should have asked ourselves is “What the hell are you waiting for?” By now she has a fever of 102 and a sharp stabbing pain below her right shoulder blade. We called more people, the idea of the crowded emergency room apparently crowding out any remaining lick of sense in our brains. And I didn’t even have a fever to use as an excuse for my muddy thinking.

It reminded me, later, of an alcoholic wondering if he’s an alcoholic. It’s a pretty safe bet that if the question keeps coming to mind, well, then you’re an alcoholic. We needed to be in the hands of medical professionals, and we were in deep denial.

Late in the evening Linda got up to go to the bathroom and I saw her start to wobble. I couldn’t get to her in time and she collapsed, crashing into the bedroom wall. It scared the hell out of me, and it also made the decision for me. I called 911 and the ambulance was on its way. This set up the next challenge, which was to get the paramedics to our door. We live on the river, in a townhouse complex, and though we have a street address, there is no street in front of our house. No one can find it, including the paramedics, so while Linda lay immobile in our bedroom, I was running around trying to direct the traffic. The two firetrucks and an ambulance seemed a little much, but we were finally ready for help. Bring it on.

One of the firefighters asked me what the story was. I told him Linda had fainted and that she had flu-like symptoms. He wouldn’t let more than himself and one other guy up to check things out, no doubt anticipating a virulent case of swine flu with Linda foaming at the mouth. Her blood pressure was taken, and then taken again, and suddenly the activity stepped up. They might have told me what her blood pressure was, but it didn’t sink in. They got a line started on her and whisked her away to Swedish Covenant Hospital, but I still managed to beat them to the ER.

The next few hours were when it started to sink in that Linda was seriously ill. Her blood pressure was hovering in the 50/something range (I never remember the bottom number), and when someone explained that normally you’d see that top number around 110-120 I realized she was in trouble. Plus, she was crying out in pain, but they couldn’t give her anything because of the low blood pressure. It would kill her.

As I started to get more worried I asked the resident whether this could lead to a sepsis. “Oh, she’s septic,” the resident said. My idea of sepsis was a roaring, unstoppable infections pervading the body, but she assured me it’s not always unstoppable. But it does shut down the organs, and the low blood pressure was a by-product of this. Also, her kidneys weren’t working. Great.

Around two in the morning her blood pressure had risen into the 70s and they gave her something for pain. They were able to stabilize her enough to move her to the IMCU at about 4 in the morning. We later found out that if we had been much later – an hour or two – in getting her to the hospital, she probably wouldn’t have made it. Her physicians, a whole team of them, gave the diagnosis of Severe Progressing Necrotizing Pneumonia, also referred to by them as a “devastating” pneumonia. In other words, we’re lucky she’s alive.

How can these things happen? And how could we have been so in denial about what was going on in her body that day? I simply don’t know. I do know that we’ll probably be driving each other to the emergency room everytime we have a sharp pain, a bad headache, or a bad head cold. The better safe than sorry adage is now gospel in our house.

Bold Strokes Book Festival in Palm Springs – 2009

I can do nothing but admit that I’m woeful when it comes to keeping my blog updated. Lots has been happening, so let me bring you up to speed.

In March I had the pleasure of traveling to Palm Springs to meet up with my new publisher, Bold Strokes Books (in the form of Len Barot, aka, Radclyffe), her editorial staff, and quite a few of the BSB authors. We gathered for a day or two of workshops and meetings and it was fantastic fun to meet everyone, learn a lot at the exceptional workshops, and hang-out pool side talking shop and enjoying the sublime weather. There were many spirited conversations on the weighty issues of the day, one of which involved the varying definitions of what constitutes having sex. My opinion is that you know it when you feel it, but others had much more specific qualifications. Bill Clinton would have approved.

The gathering was then opened up to readers for a book festival, and it was wonderful to meet so many women who love reading as much as I do. A few recognized me from my previous novel, Sometimes Quickly, and that was a thrill.

The BSB authors were friendly, the company organized and professional, the woman at the helm a real leader. It feels very good indeed to be associated with a steady publisher in this rocky time in the industry. I have great hope that Veritas, now schedule for publication in November, 2009, will be a success.

On March 21st I read from Veritas at Women and Children First Bookstore, along with four other BSB authors – Nell Stark, Cathy Rowlands, Jennifer Harris, and Rachel Spangler. The evening was a blast, perhaps especially due to the enthusiasm of some dedicated BSB readers in the audience. Carleen Spry filmed the entire reading and Watty Boss took many good photographs. Thanks to you both for recording the night for posterity.

I learned a week or so ago that I have been accepted by the Ragdale Foundation for a writing residency at their art colony in Lake Forest, IL. I’ll be attending in November of this year, spending a month working on my next book for BSB, tentatively titled Shadow in the Dark. The plan is that I’ll have so much of the book written by November 1st that I’ll be able to finish it while I’m at Ragdale and do my first edits. Lately I’ve found many of my writing plans frustratingly delayed by the demands of my real estate practice – a line of work that is so erratic and unstructured that it is hard to get into good writing habits. That sounds like a bit of an excuse, doesn’t it? Well, I’ll just have to find a way. After all, T.S. Elliot worked in a boring bank all day and managed to write every night. My excuse is a weak one.

Upcoming for me is the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival, where I’ll once again meet up with my BSB compatriots as well as many other writers I’ve met at these events around the country. I’ll be reading from Veritas and taking some really great Master classes and workshops. This will be my second time at S&S, and since it’s in New Orleans every year, it won’t be my last.