Rachel Caine (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} rachelcaine) wrote,@ 2008-03-22 11:24:00 |
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| Current location: | Turret o' Writing Looooove |
| Current mood: |  cheerful |
| Current music: | Children - Robert Miles |
| Entry tags: | breast cancer, morganville |
Quarterly review of the state of the Rachel
So. I feel I've done pretty well for the first three months of my new full-time writing thing. I did a 100,000(ish) word novel (OUTCAST SEASON: UNDONE) from mid-January to the end of February, took a one-day mini-vacation, and started and finished "Dead Man Stalking" for the upcoming Borders YA vampire anthology. Then I took a five-minute mini-vacation and started working on Morganville #5, LORD OF MISRULE.
So here, for those of you playing the home game, betting the line in Vegas, etc., is my progress so far:
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36,000 / 70,000 (51.4%) |
Due date is April 1, and of course I have AggieCon next weekend, to complicate matters. But still. I'm thinking it's do-able.
Then I take a breather for about, oh, ten seconds and start on the next Weather Warden book.
BTW, I *also* intend to do a free short story for the website this month. It will, of necessity, be kinda short, but I'll have it up by the end of March!
My breast cancer has turned out to be a constant source of bemusement (bordering on actual amusement) for me, which is just -- odd. I mean, I guess a lot of people don't share that view, and find it tragic and horrifying. I respect that. It's just that somehow, it doesn't seem that way to me most of the time. I mean, what's not funny about having breasts that are different sizes? It's funny. Don't look at me that way, it IS.
So. I had my annual post-treatment checkup, with the mammograms and ultrasounds and all that. I have to give credit to these doctors -- I've been a low-profile patient, not really a lot of drama (except for that whole radiation machine falling on me, an experience you can find journaled here). But they still remember who I am, and are very kind and gentle people, and also, cancer waiting rooms have awesome leather recliners and fluffy blankets hand-knitted by some nice church people. Rock.
So, I go to see the first doctor (the oncologist), who is very nice and sweet and had nothing really to do with me, because I didn't need chemo because of the stage of the disease and its position. But he did a full breast exam anyway, and I always think it's funny that the doctors WILL chatter away as they're fondling private bits, because it makes the whole experience so mundane and surreal. Also of the surreal: I got halfway out of my clothes and realized that the blinds were open to the street. I quickly tried to close them, the blinds jammed, the door opened, the nurse walked in, you get the chaotic picture, complete with me tripping over my pants.
For lo, I am Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball in these situations.
Later, I realized the entire building has tinting on the windows, so nobody can see in anyway. D'oh.
So then I'm walking out, and I run into the second doctor (the radiologist) who takes me into another treatment room. The nurse hands me the requisite three-armed gown (if you've never struggled with that concept, be happy). I say, "Okay, but the other doctor just did a full breast exam."
And the second doctor, who is really quite huggably cute by the way, says, "Well, having TWO doctors grope you is completely optional, of course, but if it would make you more comfortable ..."
Which made me laugh. But sadly, no more groping. Just questions, poking in armpits, etc. In the end, I am very pleased to say that my outcome is CLEAN BILL OF HEALTH for one more year, yay! The end.
... in other news, well, I did my taxes. :runs screaming:
-- Rachel
