Having an injured knee isn't all bad, as you'll see from the two books I was able to finish while elevating and resting. And these two aren't all. I managed to get further into a couple other books on my Currently Reading list, as well.
First, Women Who Writeby Stefan Bollman (forward by Francine Prose – whose last name I covet)
Having once upon a time been a bookseller and co-owner of an online shop specializing partially in women's studies, I know a lot of the background re: women and writing. However, this book contains a boatload of information entirely new to me. It's also a good review of what I knew but forgot. And there's a lot of that.
Prose's forward gives a great general intro to the topic, while each chapter Bollman writes goes into specific women, their works and challenges. Wonderful stuff, and a book you can dip in and out of when you have the time without interrupting the flow.
Completely changing gears, back to detective novels:
Meet private investigator Benny Cooperman. Waking up from a coma to find himself in a hospital in Toronto, Benny struggles to remember what he was doing when someone knocked him on the head, resulting in his waking up weeks later, able to write but unable to read.
Bits and pieces of his life come back to him, but not without much effort on his part. Determined to read again, he goes to great lengths in order to reach the part of his brain most damaged by his injury, writing things out and then trying to piece the words together.
And that's as far as I've gotten in this book, but I like it for its unique plot and great humor. A fun, intelligent read so far. I also like that it's set in Canada, something different from my usual fare.
Finally, I'm proofing a manuscript of a novel written by someone in my writers' group at the library, a book about a VAMPIRE…! Talk about an interesting foray for me, having read only Dracula and Interview With a Vampire in this genre. And this book is nothing like those. It modernizes the idea of vampires in a way that's imaginative and fun to read.
And that's how I spent my weekend, resting and reading. Enviable in some ways, I know, but my frustration is mounting. I still don't know my diagnosis. I'm waiting to hear if I'll need surgery so I can plan this little thing we call life around it. I'm also already grumpy from being unable to get around without pain. Sometimes excruciating pain.
I got a call from a nurse this morning saying, "Sorry, the results aren't in yet, but I'll follow up and get back to you." We all know what that means – In between patients I'll call the MRI clinic, they'll call back and miss me, I'll call back and miss them… So, sometime between now and God knows when we'll know what's going on.
A pox on them!
I'm beyond sick and tired. I'm passing into the sick and tired of being sick and tired stage. Grump, grump. Lying in bed all day makes me feel guilty, irrational as that sounds. And it gets tiring lying prone, leg elevated on pillows, surprisingly. After reading a couple hours at a stretch I get the urge to get up and move. So I do, pain be damned. I wander around, take care of necessary functions, then back to bed go I, accompanied by my trusty Jack Russell, who seldom leaves my side. Choosing amongst the books scattered all over the bed and nightstand, I lose myself in reading again. Until I get restless again. Repeat as needed, call doctor for refills.
If my doctor doesn't get back to me today I'll consider driving over there to beat him over the head with my knee brace (the one I self-diagnosed for myself)yelling, Get! My! Results! NOW!
I think that may be attention-getting.
Until then it's life as usual, resting as I'm able, reading until I get antsy. Continuing to work unless I'm told otherwise. Waiting, waiting and waiting some more.