Free again…sorta

I’m happy to say I am cast-free. Almost.

photo 1

I saw my orthopedic doctor yesterday. (And met yet another hunky young intern. OMG! What is it about orthopedic/sports medicine that attracts handsome young men to the field? ;-) )

photo 2

Dr. Pistel showed me my X-ray and actually high-fived me for healing so well. LOL.

photo 3

He told me I could start to wean myself off the cast.

Wean myself off the cast? What a strange thing to say. In my mind, I’d planned to toss the darn thing in the air like a high school graduate and run from the building shouting in joy.

But a few minutes in the company of the handsome young intern who asked me to do all sorts of common hand gestures to test the strength and flexibility of my wrist proved this baby bird wasn’t ready to fly solo. Ouch.

Although my bone has knitted nicely, my muscles and connective tissue have zero strength. “Let’s go with the Marx Brother’s school of medicine,” my doctor said. “Do anything you want, but if it hurts, stop doing it.”

imgres-2

So where does that leave me? Weaning…and waiting for Physical Therapy to start.

I dictated this blog on my iPad using Dragon. I find the application useful for making notes, but I don’t enjoy using dictation for my creative writing. It feels too stilted and requires a LOT of editing. Maybe if I kept at it longer I’d be better, but I plan to get back to work on my next Big Sky Mavericks book today–typing without a cast!!!–right after I get back from fifth grade.

Yep. You heard me right. I’m headed to my granddaughters’ school today to talk to my sweet Miss M’s class. Miss M is an avid reader, and when the print copies of Cowgirl Come Home arrived — the feeling never gets old!–she begged me to read it.

Cowgirl come home box

No. Sorry, dear, it’s a very adult story. But, after some discussion with her mother, my daughter-in-law decided to give her my very first Harlequin Superromance, That Cowboy’s Kids.

Miss M That Cowboys Kids

Naturally, she went to school the next day and said, “I’m reading my grandmother’s book.” Her teacher, who is new to the school, sent me post-it note inviting me to talk to the class about creative writing.

I couldn’t say no because my one of my favorite memories of helping in my children’s classroom took place at this SAME school when my son and daughter were in fifth and sixth grades. I love that life has come full circle yet again.

So, I’m taking off in a bit–wrist in cast–to talk about creative imagery and how to work all five senses into your writing. Cool topic! I wish I could bring along my other Storybroads! True masters of their craft!

Take care, all. Thanks for letting me share this odd little part of my journey. Healing takes time. I just have to keep reminding myself of that. In the meantime, the Marx Brothers and I are going to do anything that doesn’t hurt. ;-)

Deb