So, that tendinitis I thought I had beaten, or at least on the retreat?
It's back. It flared up a bit toward the end of last week, my second full week back at work after a two-week Christmas break, but it was manageable. Still, I called my doctor and got a referral to a hand specialist, whom I'll be seeing Wednesday afternoon. I also got an appointment with a massage therapist for yesterday evening, the same one who'd done wonders when I had lower back pain last year.
I don't know what she did and I'm sure she meant only the best, but I walked in with discomfort and walked out in PAIN. And 24 hours later, it's not much better.
I would love to ignore the pain, push through it, and write anyway. I don't like to admit weakness or ask for help. But I had a Tough Love conversation with Mr. Fraser this morning wherein he convinced me I must listen to my body. That my day job is legally obligated to accommodate this kind of issue, whether with an ergonomic consultation, voice recognition software, letting me take time off to rest the hand, or whatever. That my writing is a marathon, not a sprint, and that the world won't end if I have to take a few weeks or even a month or two entirely off to heal. That if I have to go to voice recognition software, I'll find a way to adapt to it, even if it slows me down.
So I'm trying to feel hopeful, even though it's hard and I'm beyond frustrated with this pain. And I'm also announcing that my blog is going much quieter again, at least until I've seen the hand specialist and can get some kind of prognosis.
I'm a bit down, because I was going to write and write and write over the three-day MLK weekend, and instead I'm just reading and reading and reading and judging my Golden Heart entries (don't worry, I'm not letting the pain impact my scoring--of the three entries I've judged so far, I thought two were fabulous, potential finalists, and scored them accordingly). So...if you've got a hopeful story of someone who suffered from tendinitis and got better, by all means tell me. But if you know of someone who was never able to use their hands again or they thought it was tendinitis and it turned out it was really something far worse...I really don't want to hear about it right now. Please. Allow me what optimism I can summon that the hand doc will be able to help me.
In happier news, the lovely and talented Delilah Marvelle will be visiting on Tuesday, so please stop by then to comment for a chance to win one of her books!
Be well! My MLK plans to write fell apart a little today too. Instead of working on my romantic suspense, as I'd planned, I'm taking a fresh look at a full-length Regency I'd all but forgotten about. Distance does wonders. (Not for tendinitis, but still.) Just keep looking at your GORGEOUS new cover art. That's bound to cheer you up!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Taryn! I wish looking at the cover art made me feel better, but all it does is remind me that if I don't get the novella WIP into submittable shape soon, I'm going to end up with more than a year between releases, which I do. not. want. Sigh. But this is where my husband would remind me that it's a marathon, not a sprint, and that it's more important to maintain my ability to write another 40 years, give or take, than to freak out over the next 12 months.
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