This past weekend, what I thought was a simple case of the allergy sniffles turned into a full-fledged thing that was more intense than a head cold but slightly less serious than a fever. Or so I thought. It sounds confusing but stay with me; I promise it will make sense.
I wasn’t feeling well–both nostrils were completely shut down, yet still dripping (HOW, SWAY?), and my throat…OH MY THROAT! It felt as if I’d swallowed nails. So all of Sunday, I stayed in bed (with a little help from some DayQuil…non-drowsy formula, my ass!). I was in and out of sleep, checking my phone, begging strangers online for soup, slowly dying, and having the wildest dreams that I can’t even remember anymore, except that I felt scared and anxious upon waking. Yes, I was being über dramatic, but that’s not where I’m going with this.
Eventually I became fully conscious: cotton-mouthed, fiery-throated, body-ached conscious. And I was scared because the body aches made me think flu or Ebola or West Nile or Consumption, and I promise the point is coming. It’s this: I had none of those things, just something that was more intense than a head cold but slightly less serious than a fever, and the body aches were nothing more than the result of lying completely still, under the influence of the DayQuil, for about eight hours.
Lying still is painful. It’s physically debilitating. I’ve been lying still on my novel since the agent contacted me, and if I don’t wake and move, the pain of losing possible representation is going to hurt more than anything else in my career has ever hurt. That’s what I remember thinking after I made some food and took a shower and moved about my apartment and began to feel better. My dream had something to do with the book. My pain had something to do with the book. And who knows, maybe the thing that was more intense than a head cold but slightly less serious than a fever also had something to do with the book. It’s consuming me. The enormity of it consumes me. THE FEAR CONSUMES ME.
But I’m trying to explain to my brain that, after we moved around we felt better, so we should move forward on the book. We’re going to move forward on the book. WE’RE MOVING FORWARD.
I hope you’re moving forward, too.
xoxo,
Raquel Ivelisse