Do you think you know where you’re going? Do you know the next step in your life’s plan? Have it all figured out, do you? Not so fast, Hoss. The random chaos of life has a little input you’ll have to factor in.

So, there I was. I had just finished yet another rewrite of the manuscript for my next book and was preparing to send it off to my great friend Gary Wortman for his first editing pass. I’ll spare you the nasty details, but suffice it to say that I woke up one morning with an obvious and significant health problem that, as far as I knew, did not exist the day before.

A quick trip to the doctor, accompanied by several tests resulted in a round of antibiotics and an order to “rest.” Gone were my daily (and lengthy) walks on the beach. Gone were my weekly (and very lengthy) volunteer dog walking sessions at a local shelter. Gone were my daily laps in the pool, and numerous ocean swims. Gone was walking everywhere in my adopted hometown of Tamarindo.

“Well, it’s just for ten days,” I told myself. Besides, hanging at our wonderful home here ain’t so bad.

Ten days later, the doctor said the infection was still there, so another ten-day round of antibiotics was called for. Now twenty days into this ordeal, the doctor tells me I need to see a specialist. Some previously scheduled and unavoidable life matters got in the way, so the specialist visit didn’t happen for another ten days. Another round of tests by the specialist, which took another five or so days to conclude, resulted in a diagnosis that I need surgery.

Thorough and exacting as he is, the specialist ordered another round of exams to prepare for the surgery. These exams included a precise and detailed look at nearly every element of my body’s functions, to make sure there would be no surprises in the operating room. It has been the most thorough physical exam I have ever experienced.

Fortunately, everything else checked out just fine, save for the one internal body part that needs attention. Thus, my surgery has been scheduled for next Wednesday.

I have no doubt that everything will go just fine. I am in highly skilled and capable hands, the hospital is of the highest caliber and the people who staff it are warm, friendly Ticos who actually care about what they do.

Following the surgery, I will have to remain “at rest” for at least a month, possibly more. Therein, as the oft-used saying goes, lies the rub. When all is said and done, I am going to be sedentary for more than two months, possibly as much as three. For someone who’s daily activity normally involves three to four hours of significant physical activity, this “rest” thing is torture.

All of this is a long-winded way to remind you to enjoy every day to its utmost, because you never know when the little things you take for granted can be yanked away. I know this is temporary, and that once the recuperation period is over, I will be back to my usual self. Perhaps, even better than before. But for an active person who literally enjoys every step of life, being shunted to the sideline is a plot twist I didn’t see coming. I guess it’s a lesson I should have learned from my book, Plan A Never Happens.

Speaking of books, there is a silver lining of sorts to this “rest” cycle I find myself in. Although I have to limit my physical activity for a while, my fingers are allowed to dance on the keyboard as much as they wish. To that end, as I alluded to earlier, I have spent the first month of rest finishing the manuscript for my next book. It is now in the hands of my editor, and by the time I wake up from the surgery, I should be deep into the next rounds of rewrites. The book will likely be ready to publish a couple of months earlier than planned. In addition, I have begun research on my next two books to follow. If I can’t be physically active, I’m going to pour my energy into the creative endeavor of writing.

So, wish me well on the operating table. Then finish reading Plan A Never Happens, Murdered for Nothing, and Breaking the Weak Link because there are more books coming. A LOT more!