Monday, September 14, 2015

What kind of writer are you? The Novelist

The Novelist - now this is a true writer in my book.  It is also what I aspire to be one day.

The novelist takes and idea, or a group of ideas based on either fact or fiction, and creates a story that allows the reader to drift off into another world.  When written well, the novel keeps you turning pages one after the other, to find out what happens next.

The novel, in many cases, can be the foundation for almost all other forms of writing.  Many screenplays, plays and movies originate from novels.  Novelists, like many other writers, spend much of their time hidden away in a secluded spot to create these marvelous works.  They don't come out to play often, but when they do, they are usually the quiet ones that may appear somewhat antisocial.  They may have a better relationship with their characters than they do with the real world.

However, once you peel away the protective layers of the novelist, you will find some of the most thoughtful and intelligent people hidden underneath that you will ever meet.  If only one day I can become a true novelist.  BTW, this is the final chapter on the various types of writers.

Thursday, September 3, 2015

I took a fall at the dock into the water yesterday...

and cracked a rib.  Yes, I know, I live on my boat and should be more careful, particularly when it is raining and the dock can get slippery.  Anyway, I was stupid and wearing cheap Dollar Store deck shoes, and I went down between the dock and the boat, hitting my heart area as I went down.

After dropping my grandaughter off at her dads (thank goodness she was there to pull down the swim ladder for me to climb out of the water - the poor girl is now traumatized though), I slowly and painfully drove to the emergency room at the hospital. Of course I couldn't have picked a busier day to injure myself.

My wait in the chilly waiting room was 4 hours because I deal with pain well and told the nurse it was about a 3 unless I took a deep breath, and then it was a 10.  She told me to relax in the waiting room and my name would be called.  One woman was getting her Chemo treatment in the waiting room because the emergency room was full, and there was another German couple waiting with me.  The German lady had caught her hand in a car door, and it looked like she might have broken bones.

The husband kept everyone in the room entertained for the next few hours.  He was one of those people that remembers every joke he has ever heard, lucky guy, and he proceeded to tell one joke after another.  Laughing with a cracked rib hurts, and I begged him to stop numerous times, but when you are on a roll....

After a few ambulances arrived and those patients that were processed, I was finally admitted to the emergency room itself.  I was given a bed and a gown, and then my blood pressure and heart rate was monitored.  I spent about 2 hours in this room, with nurses and others coming in and out to check my vital signs and listen to my chest, back and heart.  The nurse thought she heard a heart murmur, and asked if I had ever been told I had one before.  Nope.

I was then attached to 5 monitors placed on various parts of my chest, and within about 15 minutes, a young fellow came in pushing a machine that he called an EKG, I think.  He attached about 7 or 8 smaller monitors all over my body and ran tests for about 10 minutes.  He said he would give the results to the doctor.  One thing I noticed while in emergency, was that the nurses naturally talk to the doctor and tell him your information.  I guess they think we are so out of it we don't hear them, but we do.

Anyway, the doctor came in finally, and apologized emphatically for his lateness.  I told him that I had been watching the activity in the hospital, and he had nothing to apologize for.  I told him that I couldn't believe all the various maladies he had to deal with, and that I was retired - 6 hours didn't bother me.  I also told him about the fellow in the waiting room that kept us all entertained.  He checked me over and told be that because my lungs were clear, it was most likely a cracked, and not a broken, rib.  He also checked my heart and told me, yes, I did have a slight heart murmer.  He would pass on this information to my family doctor, but I shouldn't worry.  I was finally able to leave at 4:30 and get some breakfast.

The point of all this is that I have been a bit critical of doctors in the past, particularly those that consistently push prescription drugs down their patients throats.  Pharmaceutical Companies had always been a pet peeve of mine, and I hate those doctors out there that are their drug pushers.  However, I tend to forget about the good ones out there, and this fellow, and my family doctor fall into that category.  Anyway, where would we be if we didn't have these hard-working people to look after us.  Oh yeah, probably dead.