More often than not, I complain silently to myself about having a suppressed immune system. It usually happens when I go into one of the shared environments of the dorm (it’s a fact, the kitchen on my floor is the most disgusting) or have tea with someone I find to be sick. And I’ve done it all week. The antibiotics are working, and my thoughts are clearer, though I am still rather fatigued. But I realized the other day that it’s been almost three years since I was diagnosed with RA. I remember all the leaflets, information packs, etc. that my doctors gave me at the time, and they all said that left untreated, RA could completely cripple me “within three years.” So as much as I dislike my treatment, the injections and having a weakened immune system, I’m still able to walk. I can open jars on most days, and on bad days I have something else for breakfast. No, I’m not able to be as active as I’d like, but I’m well. And that’s a good thing.
Orion’s been resurfacing in my thoughts more frequently the past couple of weeks. It’s evolving. Something huge just changed, someone who I thought was on one side of the war just changed sides, causing a ripple effect that is restructuring how I approach the novel. Changes like this make me nervous, but also, I think, will make the story stronger. As I told Laura, I’m just waiting for the bolt of lightning to strike the pool—that flash of inspiration—that something living might crawl out of it. I wonder if any of my faithful readers will recognize it, once it does.