how it is now

this has always been the place where I can tell the truth, no matter what form it takes. I have tried to write stories, to edit my books, if books they are. But I can't. Not anymore. I don't have memory enough to support a novel, to track the changes--and yes, I know there are programs that will do that for me. But I don't have the strength to learn a new program. Or, frankly, the desire. I've spent my life writing this and that, some of it good, some that I'm proud of, but I don't have the spine for publication or marketing. I'm tired. Done.

biggest thing ever

I have no idea what happened to me. I really don't. It will take me days to write about it because I now have a tremor that effects any attept to write, or feed myself for that matter. So i awoke in, rather on, a hospital bed, assured "everything is alright, dear." For starters, I'm not all that dear, second, there were straps holding me in place. Certain I was being held capptive in a Dean Koontz novel, pain and all, I fought. Turns out i'd had brain surgery. ACTUAL BRAIN SURGERY. I spent most all of the fall in the hospital. Mostly sedated. Which is always fun for me. But thus the memory business. I'd been flat on my back, feeding tube in my nose and lost 50 pounds. Al I had to do was break my brain and all that pesky weight fell away.. I'm better, now. And fatter. I go to therapies that help me realize I am not able to count to ten. Now, I CAN count to ten. But I couldn't for a spell. It was discconcerting, to say the least with the largest word possible, to face a fact like that. I can't drive. I can barely feed myself if a spoon is involved, I can't button buttons and I have a hard time brushing my teeth. Typing? Fuck. And I have a scar to prove it. An 8" incision running front to back like a serious zipper holding my noggin together with a hole midway where they used a two-inch hole saw to insert the eggbeater to scramble me, or so my darling husband says. I am able to walk and talk just fine. Now. The good news is that it isn't Parkinson's. that is onee condition under which I would consider suicide. No joke. I got diagnosed yesterday. I will leave this sentence unedited if I can help it.. andd in other bad news, i have positional alopecia. because I laid iihn one pl lace for so long, my hair,d 's left of it, is fallling o urt. i'lll start editinng again, youj'rej welcome. Thank heavens for good insurance. This would probably have been a hundred grand or so. Nope. Update. 360K. Yep.