Saturday morning, July 14,
I slip inside the NAL booksigning before the doors open with buddies Barbara Freethy and Christina Dodd, just to hang out for a few minutes. There, I spy another friend, Maureen Child, and we commiserate about our swollen left ankles. Maureen said she’d been so concerned she’d “throw a blood clot” the night before, that she’d made Susan Mallery promise to comb her hair before calling authorities if she didn’t wake up in the morning.
Saturday afternoon, July 16,
I’m eating lunch beside debut historical author Monica McCarty (BTW, check out the luscious covers of her trilogy here) when I suddenly notice a plum-colored, plum-shaped bruise over the pulsepoint on my left wrist. Monica and I both think it’s weird and I decide to go lie down.
Saturday afternoon, July 16,
Wonderful friend Barbara Samuel tracks me down in my room. She encourages me to call a nurse helpline who advises that my symptoms (the leg) mean I should see a doctor within the next four hours. I decide (a bit tearfully) to head to the nearest ER, but run into Susan Mallery, who when I tell her about my destination, my swollen leg, and my left wrist, tells me that Maureen has the exact same bruise! We rush to find Maureen who almost instantly decides to accompany me to the ER to be checked out as well.
Saturday afternoon, July 16,
Maureen is given a clean bill of health (and thinks she remembers that she got her bruise stopping an elevator door from closing. I, on the other hand, am in a hospital gown and waiting for an ultrasound test since they’re still worried about my left leg--my wrist is nothing, they tell me). Maureen, bless her forever, refuses to leave me, even though she’s presenting a Rita that night (in the very category I’m competing). She enlists the ER staff in hurrying my situation along, telling them we’re romance authors, etc. They google us (didn’t we look like romance authors?) and then the race is on to get me tested! Not only did they move quickly to wheel me to the ultrasound room, but they all rushed around to get results and paperwork ASAP. Thank you, Methodist Hospital ER Staff!
Saturday afternoon, July 16,
I’m cleared of deep-vein thrombosis, but maybe not of an over-active imagination. No, seriously, they said my symptoms truly warranted concern and a check. As I was getting on a plane the next morning, I was much relieved not to have to worry the entire flight about the cramped seating. They call Maureen and I a cab…it doesn’t arrive…it still doesn’t arrive…it still doesn’t arrive…. (The photo was taken when Maureen and I were waiting for our ride.)
Saturday afternoon, July 16,
I make it back in my hotel room, after three calls to the cab company, much frustration, and an endless love for Maureen Child who made the whole experience so much less upsetting than it could have been.
Saturday night, July 16,
I didn’t win the Contemporary Single Title Rita. But I came home with the knowledge that I’m in great health and have great, supportive friends.
All right, everyone, let’s hear your ER story.
