I generally make a fierce effort to pretend that I am well. But right now half of my face is swollen and a preliminary check of the wound indicates that the scar is much larger than anticipated. The vestigial reaction to trauma is impossible to control; my whole body started to shake when I took off the dressing to investigate. I am not at all pleased to be flung backwards to the visceral experience of mutilation.
I went out to buy vitamins and homeopathic remedies and turned my thoughts resolutely away from the scar. This is what I will do instead: work.
The final proof of the Mamaphonic manuscript showed up last night and I will do the last proofread today.
A few weeks ago I turned in the first half of the next book and the publisher was happy with the structure I used to pull the stories together. There was talk about a book tour in the spring. Now I need to sit down and finish the second half.
Surgery is helpful insofar as I have brief access to memories otherwise not available; Byron laughed and said that I should finish quickly because this investigative journalism approach is no fun at all.