Author: Wil

About 60 Just A Geeks went out in this morning’s mail, so if you participated in the WWdN Fundraiser, start checking your mailbox in about four days.
To everyone who has been patient and understanding while your orders got pushed back two full weeks while I was sleeping, thank you 🙂
I think I will be able to fill all but about five of the orders that came in, based on the stock I have on hand, which is pretty cool.

Looks like I’m running for Vice President in thirteen years.

I’m guess I’m up to about 70% of normal, which is a real relief. My doctor gave me clearance to go out in public again, so I’ve been able to go to the store and help out a little bit around the house.
I still get super tired pretty quickly, so I’m taking lots of naps, but I’ve got enough base energy to read and write, so I can get back to work on my new books this week, and I’ll be able to ship out all the Just A Geeks that were ordered through the fundraiser. I wish I could have gotten them all out sooner, but at least I’ll be hitting the 6 week mark of the 4 to 6 weeks I promised.
Over the last two weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about where my energy is going, both physically and emotionally, and I’ve decided that it’s important for me to redraw some boundaries and refocus my energy . . . my life has been severely out of Balance for the last six months or so, and I think it’s a big part of why I got so sick. So I’m making some changes to my life, including my blog and other creative commitments. I’ll write more about that next week, because I’m going to walk Ferris to the stop sign now. That’s funny — it’s like we’re doing physical therapy together.

Over the last two days, I’ve started to feel a little bit better. My spleen is still so enlarged I risk bursting it at just about every turn (boy, that’s a lot of fun) but the various medicines my doctor prescribed have taken care of the secondary infections in my sinuses and throat, so while I’m super exhausted, at least I’m not in any pain.
You know what sucks? I haven’t been able to do much more than passively watch DVDs, because even trying to focus long enough to read is exhausting. I can’t even think about trying to write anything, either, so I feel like I’m just wasting time and losing days . . . and even though I know it’s what I have to do, it’s still annoying.
Because I can’t do much of anything, Anne has become responsible for everything we normally share, like getting the kids to and from school, preparing meals, feeding the dogs, keeping the house clean and all that stuff.
When I told Anne that I just hate it that I can’t help her, especially since I keep asking her to do stuff for me, she said, “It’s okay. This is the ‘sickness’ part of ‘sickness and health.'”
My wife is the most awesome person in the universe. She’s made this experience much less miserable for me, with her compassion, patience and understanding. Hopefully, it will only be another week or so before I have the strength to pick up at least a little bit of the slack around here.

I can only sit up for about ten minutes at a time before I get dizzy, so I’m going to make this brief:
It has come to my attention that many people are upset with me, and some of them are even angry at me that I can’t make it out to New Orleans for Red Hat on June 1.
Anyone who knows me will not be surprised to hear that I’m not happy about missing the conference, and I’m pissed that I can’t finish the ACME show I’ve worked on for six months, but but there is just nothing I can do to make my body heal itself faster. Quite honestly, I’m a more than a little offended that anyone would expect me to perform under these circumstances, then have the nerve to get angry with me when I can’t . . . but I won’t go into a medication-fuled rant about that.
However, I really do feel terrible that I can’t make this conference. I feel like I’m letting a lot of people down, and I just want to take a moment and make a very public apology to the Red Hat summit organizers, Jon and Shari at igrep, and especially everyone who was looking forward to hearing me speak. I wish things were different, and I wish I could take two magic pills and make a full recovery in two days instead of two months . . . but it’s entirely out of my hands.