Today I had a needle biopsy of some masses in my thyroid. I was not looking forward to it (even Writer Brain wasn’t looking forward to it and kept saying “But I’ve experienced a wide variety of needle sticks before…I don’t need another one to use in stories…and anyway, Paksworld doesn’t have fine needles for aspirating cells, or microscopes to examine them with…” ) I told Writer Brain that if it could horn in with its questions while I’m trying to cope with a bike wreck-in-progress, it could jolly well use its vampire-like desire for sensory input to track this one, too.
As needle sticks go, this one was nothing. Even the local anesthetic, which I was warned would burn for a moment produced a sting so much less than others I’ve had that…well…it wasn’t a problem. I will say that although the thyroid has no nerves (I was told), when it is pushed around or something inside it is wiggling so it wiggles, the things it wiggles against, that do have nerves, feel peculiar. It’s not pain–it’s just a sensation of small movement in something that doesn’t normally move from the inside. My neck’s a little sore, but not nearly as bad as the wasp stings last summer.
It will be useful to Writer Brain only in stories set outside Paksworld, I suspect.
I won’t have any results for a week at least, and for that week I will be at WorldCon, ignoring as best I can what happened today. Can’t do anything about it, think about something else.
This morning I worked on the second of the two Paksworld stories. I just don’t think it’s going to fit the anthology requirements, but I may send it off anyway and let the editor decide. It’s a good story but it’s against the grain of what was asked for. I worked on a third Paksworld story, but it’s so far from jelling that I can’t talk about it.