I am a woman of my word. At least I try to be. Ten years ago, when I said to Robert, my boyfriend at the time, “We should try to see if I can give you a kidney,” as we sat in a clinic exam room for his transplant evaluation appointment, I wasn’t just talking.
2015 is shaping up to be an even busier year than 2014. In order to be successful, I can’t waste time in my usual “process” as my husband Robert calls the self-flagellating, anxiety-ridden sometimes week-long trudge I go through every time I’m working on a creative writing piece or a research paper or putting together a talk.
I was glad I brought my water bottle with me. I sipped every few seconds, swishing the water around before allowing it to pass down my scratchy throat. My mouth felt like I held cotton balls in it the entire sleepless night before.