Where were we?

Okay so where were we?  Oh yeah, another obstacle diverting me from my goal.  We came back from vacation last summer and I was getting sicker and sicker.  By Christmas I was really in a bad way, I couldn’t even blame it on the holidays or back to school bull any longer.  I was certain I had contracted an infectious disease while zip lining through a Costa Rican rainforest last summer but tried not to jump to conclusions.   I started seeing doctors; first my G.P., then gynecologist, dermatologist, endocrinologist, allergist and gastroenterologist.   Nobody knew what was wrong with me.  I felt like I was the storyline for an episode of House.  It seemed like every other day I was fasting to get pricked.  My brother called me up, “Mom told me what’s going on, I don’t want to scare you but I watch this cable show where a person goes to seven doctors no one can help them and come to find out it is a parasite that they brought home from vacation which is now eating their brain.”  Eating their brain!  This is what you call to say?  Of course he added, “I am sure that is not going to happen to you.”  Are you?  Thanks bro, I am going to be up all night now.  Fortunately, one of my besties called me with the name of a legend, a man that had treated her cousin and saved his life when everyone else was stumped.  Dr. Leon Smith, world renowned infectious disease specialist, a man who has treated dignitaries around the world, kings and queens even, written documentaries, built hospitals…..I had to meet him.  He is 85 years old, doesn’t take insurance because he’s too old to deal with them (his words not mine) and only sees patients two days a week.  This man commands a hefty fee and I was eager to ante up.   Since Christmas my hair has been falling out, I gained 25 pounds and have been barely able to function due to exhaustion.  Not to mention the horrible gas that I had been passing forced my husband with tearing eyes to threaten divorce if I didn’t find a cause.  I left five messages in one day on Smith’s answering machine begging him to fit me into his schedule.  I rambled on about something different every phone call, the rainforest, my hubby’s inability to deal with my flatulence; I held nothing back trying to convince him to see me.  Dr. Smith must have pitied me, was afraid I would show up at his house or simply had to put a face to the messages left on his machine because his secretary called me upon returning from vacation (oops!  He was away.  :0) and I was squeezed in three weeks later.   

I never met anyone like him.  I felt like a puzzle, that when he looked at me he didn’t see me.  He was analyzing my skin, hair follicles, pupils, etc.

I still don’t have all the answers; I happen to be seeing Dr. Smith again next week to find out the results of the tests he ordered and formulate a treatment plan.  Biopsies and ultrasounds were on his agenda, as well as the dreaded colonoscopy and of course, more blood work.  So far I do know I have a wheat allergy and diverticulosis.  Apparently, I need more fiber.  To put things into perspective for you, just one lab visit ordered from Smith, the technician collected 13 or 14 vials of blood and gave me a bag with several containers for stool.  It took the technician that morning almost an hour to code all that into the computer.  Thank God I had the good sense to get there as soon as the facility opened.  Anyhow, it’s beyond me that I am 45, part Italian and all of a sudden allergic to macaroni and bread.  I hate to admit, since being wheat-free, I do have energy.

 Anyway a few months ago, an old friend asked to read my book.  He reads a lot and I was curious to get a younger man’s opinion.   The men in my critique group were of retirement age.  Anyway, he enjoyed the story and is looking forward to the next one, even asked if he could be in it.  Once more, my passion was ignited.  This time I won’t allow myself to dawdle away a few more years. 

I made a resolution to myself to find a way – any way – to be holding my published book by the end of the year.  Knowing I didn’t have time to start sending queries again, I started looking into self-publishing.  I have met writers along my journey who have self-published and then landed an agent and traditionally published.  My hope is that will happen to me.  My kids are twelve and almost fifteen now.  Before life interferes again or I give up and toss the damn thing in a draw, I decided to make a go of it through Createspace.  I cashed in a small 401K to fund my project.  In fact, my book is with them as I write this post.  I finalized my cover which was very exciting.  I have to finish going through the book’s editorial track changes (I paid extra for a Createspace editor to take a peak – worth every penny.  Also, I eagerly await the Kirkus review I shelled out for.).  I am strengthening my social media.  I hired a publicist who has been a tremendous help with setting me up and getting me noticed online.  Every day I am becoming more of a presence due to her.

Although, bringing my book to fruition has been a long process, I believe things happen when they are supposed to.  I know I have a difficult road ahead trying to market myself and sell books on my own without the backing of a publishing house; however I love being underestimated and surprising people.   I read once that most writers quit 15 minutes before the right agent or book deal comes along and I won’t let that be me.  My hope is other writers will learn from my mistakes, go after their dreams with tenacity and avoid the missteps I’ve taken so they can reach their goal faster.  Ciao for now.