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 I've had thyroid disease for about twenty-eight years. Specifically, I have Graves' Disease. I've been treated and take medication, but sometimes, my levels get out of whack. And boy, when they do, my life gets turned upside down. That happened to me sometime between March and September of this year.  I feel like I've lost months of my life—months of living, creating, and making progress in my writing, most importantly, in making progress toward publishing "Evelyn." This is why I hate making plans or promises. This is why I hate sitting in a room full of people and saying, "I intend to have this done by the end of the year." Because at the end of the year, I may be barely functional. I'm working with a doctor to get my levels corrected, again. I'm slowly coming back to myself again. I'm picking up where I left off, again. But I have to wonder if maybe this was all part of God's bigger plan for me. Was I delayed because the timing for