TW/CW: The following post contains discussion of medical procedure, medical anxiety, and chronic illness.
I just finished Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas and it is easily an A+ book. The book took me by the hand and led me through some of the scariest days in my recent life. For the moments that I was reading that book, my external world, hell, even my internal world, was reshaped and replaced by a book so all-consuming that it demanded every part of me. There were no parts of me left to worry about my present or future.
I did try and focus only on the story when I sat down to write this piece. I dutifully copied and pasted the blurb in this word document and attempted to explain how and why the book transported me so. But I do not have Sherry Thomas’ writing abilities. I could not separate myself out from the last intense few days, nor her characters from my emotions. The latter were simply too loud. Too demanding of my space and time. They had been in abeyance while I was reading, but now they demanded their moment. So, dear bitches, my emotions have the reins.
It’s 21:54, I have a carefully meted out tranquiliser on board and a swamp inside me. In 2021, I wrote about my disease, idiopathic subglottal stenosis, shortly after a couple weeks in a psychiatric clinic trying to get to grips with the changes happening in my life. Then it was Regency romance that I turned to and I tried to understand why.
I see now with the return of my symptoms that I’ve made that switch once again. I read a contemporary every few books, but it is historical romance that is holding me together right now.
I thought the return of my disease after years of remission would hit me like a thunderbolt all at once. Instead it has been a jagged slide into uncertainty, into that swamp. There were the moments I noticed a change in my breathing and chose to ignore it. The moment where other people started noticing and still I chose to ignore it. I pushed and shoved and WILLED the question of ‘active disease’ so far down in my psyche that it was suffocated.
It was my mother noticing my breathing and seeing the plain worry on her face that prompted me to finally book a check up. The check up, a triggering event in itself, revealed nothing. The scope couldn’t see either way. I had Schrodinger’s trachea. So a CT scan was scheduled. That happened today.
Here my slide into uncertainty accelerated. There was the painful familiarity of getting admitted to yet another hospital. It had been so long and yet it felt that no time had passed. I handed over my ID and medical aid card and felt sick to my stomach. There were the bloods to be drawn and drips to be set up. There was the scan to be done which required some very vigorous visualisation on my part, remembering spa days with my best friend and how carefree I had felt then. I desperately clung to the hope that I could feel that carefree again as I glimpsed the innards of the large circular machine through its slim glass panel as it spun around me until it blurred and my eyes couldn’t see details. Then, the wait for the results.
You know who was with me for the wait? Gigi and Camden, the leads of Private Arrangements. While I hungered for the reassurance of friends and family, I turned away from it all and hid instead, in a book. The intensity of their love struck them senseless, unable to function normally, unable to make sense of this new world that had appeared to them – similar to how I felt in the CT tube being scanned.
Then the results. Would this be the bolt of lightning that struck me? No. The report wasn’t ready but I was discharged because there were big discussions to be had about my treatment first. The doctor didn’t have the report but she did have images from the scan. There I saw it, in unrelenting black and white, through a fingerprint smudged cellphone screen. My trachea has narrowed. A lot.
Still it did not hit me. I had to get home and take care of my daughter. She needed her supper, her bath, her bedtime routine as she fell asleep in my arms. I didn’t tell my parents what I saw, only that the report wasn’t ready yet. I whispered to my partner, while the bath was running, that the scan showed something. Something potentially very bad. But we just don’t know for certain.
Still no thunderbolt. I hid some more. Now Gigi and Camden were turning towards each other like the most faithful sunflowers towards Mr Golden Sun (Ms Rachel’s name for the celestial body). Could this be? Could they, after endless tribulations, find their way together. They could and they did and I cannot tell you how much I needed that escape and that happiness.
And then quietly, not a thunderbolt of adrenaline at all, but a steadily rising tide pushing up through me and crowding out my thoughts, a pulsating swamp swallowing me whole. I felt the realisation that from this point on, my life is going to take a different turn to the one I hoped. The surgeries the doctor spoke of as possibilities are major, life-altering things and I’m terrified. Camden and Gigi had done all they could. Their story was told and so mine pushed brusquely to the surface. The truth will out. I am sick again. I don’t know the details yet. It might take weeks, months of consultations and second opinions before a treatment plan is in place. As that rising tide of emotions choked me out, I did the only thing I could think to do, write about it. Let it pour out of my fingers, relieving some of the pressure building up in me.
Only now I’ve created space for the rest of my life to flood back in as well. My mom, in hospital with an as yet mystery illness, but getting a bit sicker every day. My partner who was made redundant. Even my law school studies found their way back into my thoughts. How hopeful and determined I had been when I started my studies. What impact would my disease have on those around me? What impact would it have on me?
So what am I doing about it? I’m going to read some more.
I’m going to read the third book in Sherry Thomas’s London Trilogy: His at Night.
And after that’s done, I’m going to read another historical romance.
And I’m going to keep doing that until I have an action plan. I’ll put the books down long enough to meet with doctors and take care of other aspects of my life. But I will pick them up again as surely as I overcook my rice (which is always).
Romance novels are only one of the arrows in my mental health quiver. I have a thoughtful, insightful, responsive psychiatrist and a therapist who is always available for emergencies. I am blessed to have them. I have a close circle of friends and family who I can rely on. And while I might occasionally ostrich myself away from reality, I always always return to it and face it head on, just once I’ve built up some strength. Romance novels give me the quiet space I need to gird my emotional loins and face my circumstances with clarity.
Reading romance novels got me through this disease once before and I’m counting on it to do the same again.
Have romances gotten you through really difficult times? Which ones?
Oh my goodness! Sending good thoughts your way. Books have always been an escape for me too. I read more romance books than usual in 2020 when my heath was not great and there was that whole pandemic thing going on.
Oof, I am sorry it’s back Lara, glad you have a supportive circle of family and friends.
I have a chronic pain problem caused by adhesions, which at the moment can not be cured, and will only get worse (as it already has). The pain varies a lot partly depending what is in my gut, but as I can’t live with never having anything in my gut(!), the pain is inevitable. Unsurprisingly this comes with depression. My primary distractions are a selection of well trusted authors, Ilona Andrews is a relatively new (Covid)find and her latest ‘This World Will Not Kill Me’ helped me through my most recent exacerbation, I’m rereading it now as there is a reveal part way through that changes everything. Other favourites include Elizabeth Moon, bother her fantasy and her science fiction; Mercedes Lackey for when I really need something simple; Andre Norton for when even Lackey is too much and many others. I also find good faith crime readable in these circumstances, but can be a bit picky about that genre so end up rereading old (really old) favourites. But at the worst nothing really helps and I can’t read at all, which I resent deeply.
So much empathy, Lara. When I first got my M.E. diagnosis, 21 years ago, Georgette Heyer novels got me through; since then, I’ve usually relied on Nalini Singh’s Psy-Changeling series and Lucy Parker’s contemporary rom-coms when I’ve been through my worst crashes.
I’m thinking of you and hoping for the best and smoothest possible outcomes and really lovely, comforting reads to keep you going throughout.
Sending positive vibes to you, Lara!
The mere act of reading is comforting to me to such an extent that the content is nearly irrelevant. That said, KJ Charles is my recommendation for absolutely everything, and since she writes essentially exclusively historicals, many of which are regencies, perhaps she can help you through this terrifying time. I am so sorry you’re dealing with this again Lara.
Sending love and hugs, Lara. I’m so sorry for all you’re facing.
I agree that romances have been such a comfort. They are a way to enjoy a space where the world hangs together the way I hope, in a way that lifts my spirits. May they continue to provide that respite for you, and may the need for them lessen, if that makes sense. All the best.
I’m so sorry. You’re being hit with a lot of scary things at once. So good you have books that can give you some time away from hardship and restore you. When I’m going through a tough time, I re-read old favorites wherein all challenges are competently handled (such as Ilona Andrews, Nalini Singh, Loretta Chase). Warmest wishes for the easing, if not resolution, of difficulty on all fronts.
So sorry, and sending positive, healing vibes your way. I have a chronic illness and reading is my escape from reality. Your reading of specifically historical romance books really reasonated with me. When my mom was ill and had to begin hospice I read my first historical romance (Julia Quinn) and I was hooked. Never would I have thought I’d enjoy historical romances, especially the books with beautiful step back covers. Contemporary romance was just not hitting, and giving me the escape of the sadness I was constantly seeing and feeling. Books by Julia Quinn, Lisa Kleypas, Tessa Dare, Eloisa James and many more helped me through the grief of losing my mom. Historical romance books will always be my comfort reads.
From one chronically ill Lara to another, I wholeheartedly applaud hiding from scary procedures and incomplete paths forward in books. It’s my coping mechanism too, and historical romance does it best. Just now I’m working my way through Alice Coldbreath’s Brides of Karadok series, reading a bit each night before bed to help calm my nervous system. Sending you peace and strength!
So sorry about your diagnosis. That seriously sucks. I’m glad you have the support of your people and your books, and I wish you the best possible outcome.
I’m not surprised that Sherry Thomas is helping you cope. She is a wonderful, immersive writer whose work ages very well. . I highlighted the hell out of her stuff just because the writing is so beautiful, and I really miss her historical romance. Have you read her Lady Sherlock series?
Books have always been a refuge for me too, and I have a Comfort Reads folder that includes a few go-to authors (Andrews, Bowen, Reid, & most recently, Cat Sebastian.) Mostly, though, it’s individual titles that I depend on: Mr. Impossible by Loretta Chase, The Madness of Lord Ian MacKenzie by Jennifer Ashley, Trust Me by Jayne Ann Krentz, Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold, and Neanderthal Seeks Human by Penny Reid.
I’m glad you can read. I got diagnosed with brain tumors (epilepsy caused by ’em) and potential lung/liver issues as well and I haven’t been able to concentrate on reading for shit. I appreciate this review and wish for us both to have better outcomes.
Others are more articulate here, but sending you my best thoughts, and may the books you love continue to work their magic to help you get through all this.
Thinking of you, Laura. This is a beautiful essay about how powerful the written word can be.
Regency romance got me through chemo and continues to be my haven when the world just becomes too much, which seems to be always. I only read books with happy endings now, because I don’t want to commit all that effort and emotion into something that will make me sad – I have life for that, thank you very much. I appreciate the obstacles of manners and patriarchy that just aren’t there in the same way in contemporary romances. And I’m such a fan of banter!
Yes, they are fantasy/fairy tales with no magic in a familiar world, which is very comforting and low lift for the brain – crucial when you need to rest from illness and the demands of real life. I keep hearing that historical romance is waning in popularity and I wonder if people realize the delights they’re missing by not reading these?!?
Please allow me to be biased and recommend Elizabeth Cole. She has an extensive back catalogue – spies and romance in the Napoleonic Wars in the Secrets of the Zodiac, and more traditional romance quartets as well. Elizabeth publishes under her own imprint and I edit her books, and I think they’re wonderful.
It was Lisa Kleypas that I devoured and found shelter in during a similar upheaval in my life. Thank goodness she had so many books. Wishing you healing, peace, and many pages to keep you company
I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Best of luck with your treatment.
I will say, though, that I’ve read Sherry Thomas and don’t remember it particularly. This piece of writing will stay with me for a while. You’re a hell of a writer.
As a depressive going through a prolonged unemployment and some very scary financial issues, I know my troubles do not compare to yours, but I’ve still needed my comfort reads to ground me and keep me from doing radical and irreparable panic damage. My usual comfort reads have been Julia Quinn’s Bridgertons (they got me through two D&Cs with biopsy) but for some reason I just can’t deal with romance at this time; possibly because my own romance hero has been gone for nearly ten years now (! Good God!) so instead I am finding comfort in the books of my childhood – my LM Montgomery collection and Diana Wynn Jones.
To you and all here with chronic and recurring illness, I send good wishes, high hopes, and what caring, comfort and courage I can. Blessed be you all.
In bad times, long series are ideal for me. I see a lot of love for the Psy Changeling series here so I think it’s going to be one that I go to the next time life gets extra hard.
Mercedes Lackey was there for me last time.
Not romance in any way, but I can always count on the Terry Pratchett Discworld series in a depression, the audiobooks especially. Things are sad and stupid and unfair and even cruel, but I can be a Granny or a Vimes or any one of many brilliant ferocious people who insist on believing the “small lies” like trusting each other so that we can work up to believing the “big lies” like justice. And there is an orangutan librarian who says “Ok”. What’s not to love?
I’m so sorry for all you’ve gone through health wise.
Historical romance is always my go-to in hard times.
I wish you and your family the best during this stressful time.
Glad reading is helping.
I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. Chronic illness of any kind is so debilitating, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I have my own chronic pain issues, so I know the value of books. Historical romances are always great as escape reading for me, too. Strangely, I also lean a lot on true crime and even horror. (I’m told that the violence in these genres helps me to “externalize the pain.” Or I’m just a weirdo. In case it helps you or anyone else to know, it turns out that when I can’t concentrate enough to read, movies and shows with the same kihnd of content are also helpful.
Thank you for sharing your own story with us, Lara. You have my admiration and many good wishes as you move forward.
Romances (and other books) have indeed helped me through difficult times. Historical romance authors I like include Carla Kelly, Joanna Bourne, Mary Balogh, Jennifer Ashley, Lisa Kleypas, Jo Goodman, Jo Goodman,and LaVyrle Spencer. Some favorite books outside that area that I reach for in challenging times include The Goblin Emperor (Addison), Linesman series (Dunstall), Touchstone series (Höst), Claimings series (Gala), and some Star Trek novels.
Books are there for us when we need them, in wondrous and unexpected ways. Lara, wishing you all the good and healing in the universe.