New Year’s Day is traditionally considered a time of new beginnings. This year, that construct has a totally different meaning for me.
I thought December 31, 2013, would be the New Year’s Eve that I looked back over the year with great joy because I’d finally published my first novel. Well, life had other plans for that particular date in my life. About mid-day on New Year’s Eve, I received a phone call telling me that I have breast cancer.
The tumor was small, we caught it early, and at this point the prognosis is good. I have another procedure next week to remove a lymph node and biopsy it, and the results of that procedure might change the diagnosis considerably. But for now, I’m assuming that my outlook is good and that we’ll be able to lick this thing with minimally unpleasant treatment.
That said, I don’t really know what’s ahead of me. I plan to keep blogging, but it will probably be less often. I assume my energy levels will flag as I undergo whatever treatment regimen my doctors recommend, and it’s more important to work on my next novel than to post here five times a week.
I do not intend to turn this into a cancer blog. It will still focus on my writing, but I may mention my health as it relates to my life as an author.
And I guess that’s all I really have to say about this right now.