There is no better feeling than being the sole reason someone is still alive, but the second best comes when you release a new book, and this week I had to experience both.
First, there was my patient. A charming man whose symptoms didn’t appear dangerous or give any cause for concern, yet something felt off. I’m an old-fashioned doctor who always listens to my gut feelings, knowing even the best NHS guidelines won’t cover everything, and patients rarely present you with symptoms as they are written in doctors’ manuscripts. So I followed my gut. We did a CT scan and discovered a silent illness that would literally kill him in an hour.
I never felt so humbled facing such incredible dignity and good nature when I told him he needed immediate surgery. I still remember his name, and for an ED doctor, that means he impressed me enough to make him stand out among dozens of patients. Many of us do this ungrateful, demanding job for moments like this.
… and right after this, my third book went live.
It is funny how you click the button, letting the child of your mind fly into the wide world, hoping it will do well. My sales tell me it is, but my impatient self keeps twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the reviews to come, and each time I see the book is sold or a Kindle page is read, it just makes me want to write more, to do even better and challenge myself to deliver fantasy that everybody would like to hide under their pillow.
In the meantime, I can’t sleep, obsessing about reviews and dragging poor Mark downstairs to give me company while I’m staring at the screen with him muttering about giving us another full-time job, but hey, at least our books will make us immortal… well, sort of.
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