I Love My Lyrica; Also, MBLU Convention News

Okay, so maybe this week was all my fault after all, but OMG, never, EVER forget to order your Lyrica. 

I put in a request for my doctor to renew my Lyrica prescription on the 6th. Unfortunately, it didn't get to its destination, and by Sunday I was out of Lyrica. Worse, on Saturday I'd done quite a bit to help my husband and kids do some work in the dining room that had been put off for a while.

By Monday I was in so much pain I couldn't even lay on my back anymore. I spent two days lying on my side as Dusty called the rheumatologist and got them to send the prescription to a different pharmacy, one closer to our home.

But hey, the dining room is looking much better.

I'm working today and hoping to make up some time by working on Saturday. It will keep my broken ass from doing anything stupid, at least. I think. Maybe.

Yeah, I didn't think so either.

OH! On another note, I've got some news from the MBLU Convention at the Mall of America:

Only a few days to get your hotel room for MBLU 2016! If you are joining us and would like to stay at the host hotel I highly suggest you give them a call and book your room! 

http://www.midwesternbookloversunite.com/venue

Also, this! (I think this part is AWESOME!)

Hope to see you there!

Ah, Physical Therapy...

Physical therapy.

It all sounds so easy at first, doesn't it?

"Let's put some heat on that joint, then we'll do a simple massage to work out some of the bad stuff that's built up in the muscle and tendon that you've damaged."

"Then a few simple stretches, working with the resistance bands, and you're done!"

"We'll even give you a few things to do at home that will help a lot."

"Remember, don't overextend your elbow during your nerve stretches."

"We'll set up your next appointment for...wait, where are you going?"

But in reality, if I really did try to quit Dusty would never let me. He'd con me into the car with promises of Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts, then laugh as we drove off to my torture.

So I get to go again this week, and next week, and the week after...

I Was Taken Down by a 2lb Weight

Yes. Those. The pretty pinky-purple weights all the boys won't touch because they're gurrrly.

I got my ass kicked by those. I'm not even Super Grover. I'm just Grover.

It all started when I was working out. I knew I wasn't allowed to go above 2lb weights because of my arthritis, so I swear I was being good. But, sometimes that's just, er, not good enough. 

So one of the things I've been told to do is strengthen, well, everything, so I was using the weights that day on my upper arms. I did simple shoulder presses, the overhead press thingy above, tricep curls, bicep curls, you name it. But it was during the shoulder press that I first felt pain.

I thought, hey, I haven't done this in a while, my muscles are so much oatmeal. Of course it hurts.

Of course.

Months later, I find that two pound weight has either a) calcified a tendon or b) moved my rotator cuff. Either way, it fuckin' hurts.

So I'll be getting an x-ray to figure out what's wrong with my shoulder so I can go to physical therapy on top of the physical therapy (aquatic) that I'm supposed to set up for my arthritis but haven't had the time to do.

Oy.

Good news? Putting my hands in the "typing" position is A-OK by the doc, so the work moves on...

OH! Before I forget, I'll be at the Reader & Author Get Together in Ohio June 9-12! See you there!

New Contract, and Brain Drain

First, I bet you're reading that New Contract thingy in the title and thinking I got a contract on the book I'm currently writing.

Nope. I got a contract on the one I'll be starting after I'm done More Than Words. The contract is for the next True Destiny book, Hide and Seek (Nik and Toni)! I've got the outline already, so I know what will happen. I decided to do Hide and Seek before Electric Dreams because neither Melissa nor Liam were talking to me, but Toni and Nik were.

Ah, author weirdness at its finest.

Anyway, I'll be submitting the synopsis for More Than Words soon, along with the manuscript. Don't worry, if/when I get a contract on it I'll let you know as soon as I can.

Now, on to the brain drain.

You may have noticed my online presence has been, at best, sporadic, and at worst nonexistent. That's because I've been having brand new symptoms that are giving me some serious issues, like sleeping for nearly twenty-four hours or being unable to think of certain words. My doctor sent me to a neurologist to find out what's going on. Well, I had that appointment today, and she's setting me up for a series of tests to find out what's going on. EEG, MRI, blood work, all that fun kind of stuff. Since they're doing the EEG at O'Fuck Hundred in the morning, I'm pretty sure it will look something like this:

The neurologist suggested that it could be a new iteration of my migraines, but she wants to cover all of her bases because some of the symptoms don't quite fit. We'll see what's going on, and also get a picture of my brain. That should be interesting.

One of the Lovely Things About Being Over Forty

Yes, I've been sick. Yes, I've been a LOUSY blogger. But I haven't forgotten about blogging, I just haven't had the pain management or the energy levels to write something. Next week I'll post about my upcoming release, Indirect Lines, but for now I wanted to dip my toes back in the water with a short, funny bit that's been floating around in my head for a while now.

There are a few things they don't tell you when you're approaching the big four-oh, let alone what's going to happen to your body as you stumble your way through your forties. I'm forty-seven now, and I tremble in fear of what forty-eight has in store for me. This is just one of the lovely things about being over forty:

What Happened to My Boobs?

The first thing that changes when you leave your thirties? Your boobs. Your love bags. Those things on the front of your chest that used to be perky and bright. Remember them?

Yeah, I hope you took a picture. They'll never look like that again without a shit-ton of plastic under your skin.

Now, don't get me wrong. I like my boobs just fine. But perky only happens with my ponytail these days. At my age, a booby check isn't to look for lumps. Nope. That's called a booby squish, aka a mammogram. Nope. A booby check is to make sure my nipples are both facing the same direction.

And can we mention sag? Oh, yeah. I love the thought that by the time I'm sixty I'll be able to tuck them into my waistband.

Hmm. Then again, it might save me some money...

Dana Did a Dumb-Dumb

Ever been hit by the spring cleaning bug? Because I was, on Saturday, actually. Everything, and I mean everything, suddenly needed to be dusted, like, NOW. So here I am, running around with my spray bottles,paper towels, and a look in my eye that scares the children, cleaning like a deranged Cinderella who's late for the ball.

Now, to be honest, my kids do help when I need to clean the house. They have their methods, and I have mine.

We're working on that.

So all through the day, Dusty is reminding me to watch my spoons, and I'm telling him I'm fine, I'm good. I've got this. Yeah, I'm in pain, but that's normal, that's an every-day thing.

I was oh, so wrong.

I'm cleaning, and I'm making sure to take breaks here and there so I don't push myself. But I did things I know I'm not supposed to do, like the dishes (a lot of twisting and bending...it's bad for my back). I lifted things, and moved things, and hell, I even cooked dinner when we were all done. But I'd forgotten to listen to the warning signs that I'd used up too many spoons.

First, the heavy pain, where you can barely move, but you make yourself, because it will get better if you get up and move around rather than let your spine lock. We all know this, right? Everyone who has arthritis knows it's better to move through the pain.

If I had just stopped there, everything would have been fine. But, nope. My brain was stuck on MUST. CLEAN. My body was stuck on, OH. SHIT. And when those two collide, it's... well...

The second sign is my back going numb. I can't feel anything. That just encourages me to keep going, because hey! I'm not in pain anymore! Standing up and moving around really helped! So you think you're all good. Nothing's gonna break your stride, just like that song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3YrNSw5a2I), and you can take on the world.

I finished cleaning, cooked dinner, and realized that I was hurting again, but on a much larger scale. I lay down, certain I would be fine in the morning. See, I didn't realize I'd taken my spine and turned it into a pretzel. And since I'm not a cat, this is a bad thing.

Once I went to bed, the pretzel undid itself while I slept, causing all those lovely nerve endings to once again send signals of "What the fuck did she do this time?!?"  And being the good wife I am, when the dog whimpered at five in the morning to be let out, I tried to get up. After all, it was Dusty's birthday weekend, and I wanted him to sleep in for a change. So when I sat up, I wasn't prepared for the stars to be so pretty, or for my back to suddenly hit the mattress once more. I hadn't just thrown my back out. I'd hit it with a stick until all its candy fell out, danced the samba on it, twirled it overhead, twerked against it like a three year old drying their butt to music, and only threw it out once it looked like a frat boy after a three day bender.

So Dusty got up, I stayed in bed, and my back got even with me by keeping me there for two days.

But hey, my house is clean, right?

Catch Up with Cactching Up

I think the holidays killed me.

First, we got Amy, aka Destructo Pup, who we have since discovered through her pet records was named for Amelia Pond. We've decided this is fate, and are now waiting for a Tardis to appear in our living room.

Any day now. Any day...

Then the holidays hit, and we had a blast at my mother's. We also had company in the form of my brother-in-law, his wife and their two children, who stayed with us until just after New Year's. We had a blast, the kids even more so. Needless to say, there was a massive hunt for Nerf darts come January 2nd.

And then...the flu hit. M got it first, high fever, sore throat, the works. Then Mommy got it, then The Furry Teenage Human. Dusty, the SOB. got sniffles for, like, half an hour. I swear, that man would survive a zombie bite with nothing more than an itchy rash and a mild desire for strawberry Jello brains.

But hey, something good came of the flu. I couldn't really write, but I could edit, so while sick I got the second round of edits done on Song of Midnight Embers (Maggie's Grove 4). We're now going into copy edits. Yay!

Now that I'm well again I've finally started Wolf's Bane (Heart's Desire 4), the final book in that series. Be aware that the working title will probably change as I get into the story. So far Daniel is being as stubborn as I knew he'd be, and Kerry isn't going to let him get away with his shit for a second.

Dusty gave me some neat ideas on how to continue on with the magical world of the Becketts, and I'm seriously thinking about it. No shifters, because only the Becketts are shifters in that world, but he said he'd love to see more of the Own, both the God's and the Goddess's. I agreed, and could see how I could write that series of warriors on the hunt for evil magic-doers. I'll decide soon whether or not I'm going to go for it, but I'm leaning toward yes.

Also: more flu. Yay! Only this time, it was the stomach variety, with lots of nastiness. Again, Dusty burped once, farted twice, and that was it. I swear, I'd think he was an alien except he's allergic to, like, outside.

Wait. Maybe he is an alien. Outside could be his green kryptonite, after all.

So we've survived the holidays, the plague x2 AND a new puppy. And you know what I got out of all of this?

That's right. I need to change my newsletter.

Don't ask where that came from. I was left on my own for far too long as I recovered from the plague, and this was the result. I'm tired of Yahoo messing up the stuff I send out. While I like the fact that you, the readers, can sign up or unsubscribe on your own with no interference from me, I dislike the fact that half of the images I include in the newsletter get screwed up. I've also lost some control over how I deal with the Yahoo page, and when it mails things out. I'd like to switch to something that's designed to handle just newsletters, so I'm researching it. I'll let you know when the change will be happening as soon as I decide on a company. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

So on that note...PUPPY!

She's a goof, but she's our goof.

A Little Quickie

I was sick all last week (hence, no blog post), so I've jumped right back into writing, trying to catch up to what I didn't get done on Never More.

Sorry, guys!

So an update: I won't be at the Dallas RT Convention, not because I don't love you guys (or RT), but because of financial stuff having to do with buying and selling a house.

We will miss you, old house. You were good to us. Now be good to the nice new owners.

The new house has an office for me and for Dusty, and a nice kitchen as well:

Erm. Ignore the dirty dishes. The Furry Teenage Human has to fill the dishwasher after his homework. He's a bit...squeamish... about the whole thing.

Let's just say he's less than enthusiastic about doing dirty dishes. His father offered him a trade: clean the kitty litter boxes, and Dad would take over the dishes.

FTH (Furry Teenage Human) declined the offer. Something about poo and coughing on pee dust.

Unfortunately, I couldn't work while I was sick, so I have some serious catching up to do. Never More will be moving forward again, and I should be back to my normal schedule. Once that's done, I start Greer and Mollie's story, Song of Midnight Embers. I'm already hearing them, but they need to wait their turn, damn it! I can feel their story creeping up on me, ready to kick Raven and Amanda to the curb.

So, yeah, that's been...going on.

Oh, and of course the ongoing medical issues. Those are...ongoing. I'm doing well today, and that's how I look at it. One day at a time, one spoon at a time.

And I totally did NOT spend last week watching Dragon Age:Inquisition videos and sobbing "NOVEMBER!" into my tissue box.

I still can't decide if I want to twirl Dorian's moustache with my male Inquisitor first...

...or scale the Blackwall with my female Human warrior...

...or dip into some Templar love with a female elven mage...

...or go girl on girl for the first time with Sera...

...or Josephine...

...or try something a little different with an elf whose magic is also...different.

But then Dusty pointed out that Solas looks like a Nosferatu, and now I can't unsee it.

Or that Romulan guy from Star Trek who blew up Vulcan.

Sorry, Solas. You're friendzoned.

Hell. Maybe I'll just ride the Bull with my female Qunari rogue.

Guess which one he is.