re: pain

an update on my writhing innards, if you're into that sort of thing

I think I have made the mistake of trying to write these posts like a blog from 2009 which is likely why I find it so hard to press send. instead I will write to you as a friend sending a slightly unhinged email from across the office/lecture hall/house, typos and all. I’m in the coffee shop, where are you? I just had a facial and I’m giving snail; how wet is YOUR face?

in October I went on a research trip to Romania because I’m writing a book about vampires. I did not meet any vampires OR bears OR wild boars, huge bummer. I did: meet extremely friendly locals who gave me local tips on cab rides and shared their booze and tea with me at the top of a tiny mountain; experience the unbridled GLORY of the Carpathians in the autumn; get either food poisoning or a 24 hour bug on my last day. I can’t tell you anything about Bucharest. I can tell you a hell of a lot about the underside of the sink in my hotel room.

the thing that stands out to me about the trip, apart from the frolicking and the castles and the puking, is pain. the week before we left I’d started getting daily abdominal pain. I thought it was gastro related. I stopped eating after 8pm. maybe it helped. then came the pukeathon, and I thought, oh, maybe there was something alien inside me that was deeply wrong, and now I’ve EXPELLED it out of my mouth, exorcism-style.

after I got back the pain continued, sometimes just a dull ache, sometimes all-consuming. it came and went in what seemed like random ebbs and flows. I went to the doctor. I got the bloods. I shit in the cup. eventually I had a colonoscopy—BIG fun, wow, and now I can only laugh when americans are like: “HORROR STORY, I woke up during my colonoscopy!!”. they don’t knock you out properly in the UK, and the drugs had almost no impact on me except making me a bit sleepy, so I watched my colonoscopy on the silver screen while the doctor said things like “hey, that’s your appendix” and I said things like “ow”.

I started to suspect this was a gynae problem. I have the BRCA2 genetic mutation, so I have an increased risk of breast and ovarian cancer, and this plus another blood test for elevated tumour markers got me fast-tracked to an internal ultrasound.

lucky, lucky, lucky. lucky I know how to push and who to push, lucky I didn’t give up, lucky the doctor I got on the third try listened to me and gave me the bloods and better pain drugs. they said, good news, no ovarian cancer, but of course you do have these chunky cysts and some Thickening, which means it’s probs endometriosis. a second ultrasound got me the referral to the endo clinic.

in the meantime I’m going to try the Mirena coil, which I’m not exactly JAZZED about but will endure with hope and gritted teeth. in the mean meantime, I am in pain. I often wake up in pain. sometimes it goes away for the majority of the day, which is huge for me personally. it usually comes back in the evening. I groan when I walk and take baths at 1am. I begged some co-codamol from the pharmacy and now eke it out in three day stints, taking breaks between to prevent addiction. a pain diary has helped me to realise that there’s one shining golden week a month where I’m likely to experience NO pain. that’s next week. let’s all squeeze our butt cheeks together and pray.

I have a book coming out in one month. it’s called THE UNMAGICAL LIFE OF BRIAR JONES. it’s a very queer, angry adult fantasy novel about the way this country takes hearty little rich boys who want for nothing, tortures them at boarding school until they’ve become psychopaths who want power at any cost and have been violently stripped of their empathy, then makes them Prime Minister. it’s about being a “good” or a “bad” person. it’s about how much life and love can change us. it’s a love story!

I have a book coming out in three months. it’s called BRIDGET AND GABE ARE NOT OKAY, and it’s the sequel to GWEN AND ART ARE NOT IN LOVE. it’s about the “glory” of chivalry/the horrors of war, and trying to become the person you’re meant to be: a knight, a king. some of it is about being a hot butch knight called Bridget and being PLAGUED by fucking DOGSHIT ENDOMETRIOSIS. it’s about whether we’re worthy of love if we’re not exactly nailing it in the life department.

I’m also trying to finish my vampire manuscript. it’s overdue.

as you can imagine, it’s hard to promote two books and write a third one when you’re in pain most days, and even on the days when you aren’t, you’re usually exhausted from all the sleep you lost when you were. my pain diary is so sad, you guys. yesterday I had to write “left choir early; hurt too much to sing”. like, come onnnnnn, come ONNNNN. hurt too much to raise my voice in glorious song!

I am hoping for a better summer and eight hours of sleep sometimes and having fun on tour getting to meet some of you. there are giant old ghost signs all over London that say TAKE COURAGE in big block letters, advertising the Courage brewery, and I plan to get that ad slogan tattooed big on my human body at some point. when I’m wriggling n writhing at night, wondering if the drugs will work and the pain will go away, a little 1940s drill sergeant barks TAKE COURAGE in my ear. so I must!

if you want to preorder BRIAR or preorder BAGNO that would be a huge help to me. if you want to come on tour—during which I will either be happy as larry or happy as larry, a man a little bit high on pain medication—I will sign your books and we will have FUN.

and that’s an order!

x