No, I didn’t relapse. We had a big storm Sunday night that knocked out the phones (and the infernal dial up until today), which was probably for the best as it forced me to do nothing but alternate resting and walking (getting on my feet to walk again was difficult, stairs still almost impossible.) I’d love to answer all the emails I received from my fans encouraging me to heal and with relief I’d survived, but, goddamn, you all crashed my email account with so many emails! I had over 500 new emails. I always joke about Rob’s Reavers, my fans that are superfans and the best fans in the world, but little did I know Rob’s Reavers are an army. Under my dictatorship…er…wise leadership, we could conquer a small Third World country, inhabit it and limit immigration to hot kick-ass guys, hot kick-ass brothers–Rom and Russian, hot cynical psychics named Jackson, and hot mythological pansexual car salesmen. Ah…lock and load, Reavers, the promised land awaits us.
But back to the subject, since I basically had to do a hard dump of those 500 emails to get my email functional again, I’ll have to thank now and at once all my brilliant, loyal and compassionate fans who sent kind words and thoughts when I needed them most. Sometimes you think after writing for so long that fans might take your presence for granted. All of you showed me that will never happen with you. I might not be NYT#1, but you can bet your ass no other author is as lucky as I am.
In other news, I couldn’t wash my own hair as it was too long and I’m still too weak and my kind-hearted hair dresser came out to my house (as I also can’t sit up long enough to be driven to and from the salon and sit in the chair–my salon is a good 45 minutes away.) She whacked my hair off above my shoulders so I can hopefully take care of it myself and not have to have family come in the shower and wash it for me…just one less humiliating weakness. It’s a cute cut…like Claudia’s from Warehouse 13. I’ll post a picture once all my bruises have faded and I look less like an eggplant gone bad. And maybe I’ll post it showing off the tote bag I had made to carry at the Con (which of course I missed to fun in the sun in the ICU). That’s about all I can do with it. You can’t carry a bag that says “Because I’m a Geek Bitch, Baby!” at the mall. Okay, well, you could, but the effect wouldn’t be quite the same as when surrounded by fellow geeks.
I’ll try and keep everyone updated, although never as good as Jayda did/could do, but if a few days pass, don’t worry. I’m just recuperating…and picking out that Third World country…