When I said I needed some time to regroup, I didn’t mean I was going to fall off the face of the earth–but I guess that happens sometimes when you’re trying to put together a plan.
And oh boy, has this been a solid few weeks of planning.
Here’s something I didn’t mention in my last few posts–mostly because I was still trying to wrap my brain around it during all of the other shit that had been piling up but also because I was so embarrassed I wanted to curl up in a ball and die. While I was in Orlando at the hospital getting the tests done–I got a very unfortunate email.
It had come from my editor at Demos to let me know that the publishing company was moving in a different direction. They were cutting their line of general health books and turning more fully into a medical text book company.
Translation: They dropped my book deal.
Having been stabbed in the gut before, I can tell you it was a pretty similar feeling that lasted several weeks. It was the maraschino cherry on top of my melting, bland ice cream sundae of depression.
The good news is that they were extremely gracious about tying up the loose ends and making sure I retained my rights to all the hard work I’d put in. The other good news is that my editor was able to edit a good portion of the book. So basically I’ve got one whole book, promo pictures and all ready to go.
The bad news–unless I can find a new agent or publishing company to take me on very soon, I don’t see the book coming out in stores in August as planned.
Like I said: I needed a minute to regroup.
It was just all so well planned. It was like one moment I knew exactly where I was going and then BAM GPS failure. I was taking some giant ass steps backwards from the operating table, shakily trying to get my work back in order for Global Genes and staring down what felt like the impossible task of revising a 100 page proposal to pitch my book to mainstream publishing companies.
I also started detoxing off of a lot of medications–trying to see if I could reset my system and try to get a grip on how far progressed my disease was–versus how screwed up I was from side-effects of drug after drug after drug.
Having been on IV painkillers for over a month I totally spiraled into this unfamiliar, drug-induced depression. Thankfully as the painkillers cleared out of my system, so did that awful, heavy, nothing will ever be right again feeling.
And finally I was able to start weaving back together all the parts of my life that had exploded all over the room.
I started with some much needed fun and spent Valentine’s day with R.J at the Science Museum in Fort Lauderdale. He made me breakfast, then we played around the entire place–I even went on a virtual airboat ride which threw me up against a metal siding and knocked the air right out of my recently inflated lung! The rest of the day was less painful and very sweet.
I also had a few girl’s nights with my friends who I had barely seen (or at least barely seen while I was not on IV painkillers). I didn’t even really realize how much I had missed just being with people outside of the hospital until I started seeing them again.
I spent a few days backtracking emails trying to get caught up on everything before World Rare Disease Day. I finally feel like the blog is back up to scratch, my editorial calendar is scheduled out and I made this neat little video in prep for the big day.
I went to a tasting for my wedding–unfortunately the food wasn’t so great so we nixed the caterer, but still think we might have found the right place for the reception. My Aunt also offered us her house for the reception which might be just what we need.
R.J and I made plans to fly out to Texas this summer for a vacation with his family at a water park resort. I’m willing to bite the bullet on flying just because I can’t imagine anything I need more than a sit by the pool, drinking Pina Coladas kind of vacation.
I’ve also been seeing a cranial sacral therapist and a naturopathic doctor, drinking greens, pulled off some antacids that likely caused a lot of my gastroparesis symptoms, and am about to embark on detoxing off a gastroparesis med I have been on for almost ten years.
I may have also started writing a chic-lit novel purely for the challenge of writing something I’d want to read if I was still as depressed as I was from my last entry and just wanted to laugh.
I’m going to go ahead and call this a solid plan.
At the very least it’s not Jello.
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