Dang pancreas. It's had its way with me one too many times. I'm done with it. AND I'm declaring WAR on IT and any other body part that intends to stand in the way of my writing. FOR NOW AND FOREVER MORE!
I've had to stop too many stories, often for months at a time, to deal with the havoc it wrecks on my life. Not to mention my health. And that of my family.
After three or four such bouts with this cantankerous organ, I had to stop again recently while editing HUNGRY to tango with this persistently unhappy body part of mine.
Our dance was done a few days ago at Ohio State University Hospital. Outpatient with Dr. G and his staff officiating.
A balloon - perhaps a robust red party balloon - who knows? - was used to stretch some sense into the duct - hoping to put an end to all the shenanigans it had been doing, and then to assist the balloon a plastic stent was inserted to keep the little "devil" duct open as it is supposed to be naturally.
After a much needed talk and some roughing up from the doctor, the pancreas and duct should be believers. That remains to be seen.
After I recover in a few days - and my lips go back down, they somehow got mashed in the process and I came out looking like Octomom - I'll once again be ready to pick up the tools of my trade, my pens and pencils and laptop, and take to the writing fields.
Because I have HOPE, an endless amount, I believe that this time will be the last time.
But as I said, I've declared WAR. If it comes back we'll do battle again.
I hope while I've been dancing YOU have been working.
PS Previously, the pancreas duct was damaged by gall stones, leaving scarring which prevents its working at times.