Sir & a fire drill
Weeks ago, after I published my last book, ‘UnderCurrents,’ I started writing a blog on Sir, the main antagonist in my Consortium books. I intended it to be a short synopsis of the character addressing the question. What makes him tick? Before I knew it, it was over two thousand words long, much too long to use as a blog entry.
I decided to create a page on my site dedicated to this character. After all, his victim and primary interest in the books, Avril has a page. Before long, I added another couple of hundred words to his biography, and I’ve only touched the surface of this complicated and intriguing character. Which means, it needs editing and sifting just as what happens when I write a new story. What am I, a glutton for punishment? Don’t answer that. Still in rough draft form, and the bio needing more work, I ran into a health issue.
During an unannounced fire drill at work ten days ago, happenstance had me standing in front of the fire siren annunciator when it went off. Most of you know what I mean. The sirens are LOUD. They intend them to be loud to cut through the din and alert everyone in case of an emergency. The volume of the things cuts through everything. Since I work in a quiet office, I felt it twice as bad.
Immediately, I screamed as sheer pain shot through my brain as if shot with an arrow. I almost collapsed to the floor in agony. In a fight-or-flee situation, I fled, cupping my hands over my ears, and headed out of the building as fast as I could. Once far away, I allowed myself to collapse and sit down.
For those who remember my maladies from three years ago, I suffered a significant concussion. I’ve lived with the consequences of that day ever since, which includes a constant, uninterrupted headache which never, ever goes away. It’s only a matter of scale. A week later, the level still reads high. It’s in the same range as what it was three years ago.
Consequences to Sir and the Fire Drill
Since then, I lost time from work, lost all problem-solving abilities. Most important of all, I lost my creative stream of consciousness. I could do only those things which I could do brainlessly using muscle memory. You know what I mean. I could do routine stuff I’ve done all my life, but not much else. I rested in a darkened room, napping on and off for hours before going to bed and sleep more.
Days later, I saw my neurologist, and together, we came up with a treatment plan. More rest, of course, and lay off the over-the-counter pain relievers, limiting them to only three times a week. This last was easy, as I didn’t think they did anything for my headache. It raged on in my skull, alternating between crushing it and piercing it with more arrows. New prescription meds are in the works. Later today, I see a chiropractor. I’m crossing my fingers. Will you join me?
Where I am today
I am slowly recovering and I feel slightly better. On the headache scale, it’s still high, but not as bad as it was days ago. It also means that my creative mindset is returning, if slowly. Without that, I could not write this article.
Throughout the past month, I’ve had all of you on my mind. I’ve missed writing to you, sharing a bit of my life as an author with you.
An author? Wow, who would have thought? Ten years ago, I never even dreamed it was possible. Now I have ten published books under my belt and another free one available on my website, RICHARDVERRY.COM. Don’t forget to check my books out found on Amazon.
Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for being one of my loyal readers. I appreciate each one of you.
In case no one has told you this today, you’re awesome.