I asked, life answered

Last week, I believed the previous three Mondays had been about as bad as Mondays could go, and I made the mistake of wondering aloud what sort of fun this Monday would bring. Well, life heard me, and answered.

Last Monday, I'd come down with a bug of one sort or another. By Sunday, it felt like someone was standing on my chest and I had a terrible and very dry cough, which prevented me from getting even 1 minute of sleep Sunday night. By the time the kids woke up for school, my voice had begun to go and my throat felt like someone had a death grip on it and was holding it closed.

Yeah, these days my Mondays start off with a bang.

Francis Ray was my featured guest, but I knew early on I wouldn't have enough of a voice to do much talking, so the rest of the show I had planned needed changed. I got on the horn and called author Kate Collins and asked her if she would come on the show, and made sure Betty Jo Tucker could do a movie review, and then I called Metsy Hingle to see if she would do the news report this week and be there to fill in if my voice gave out altogether.

Actually, all things considered, Monday wasn't turning out so bad.

I picked my daughter up from school at 3:05pm and ran her 15 miles to dance and baton (she's going to try out for majorette next spring), stopped at the drug store and bought lots of drugs - the strongest cough medicine sold over the counter, the strongest Hall's cough drops (of course, they were out of the Cherry, so I was stuck with that nasty mentholyptus stuff), and some Clariton 24 hours medicine. I took the cough medicine and Clariton on the spot, then I raced home and got in the house with 5 minutes to spare before air time.

My throat still felt terrible, so I took another dose of the cough medicine while on hold with the studio. Then the producer tells me Betty Jo and Francis had been on the line, but had been cut off. And it was time to start the show. And without the guests, I couldn't do the show.

I hung up from the studio and called Kate to see if she could go on first (she was scheduled for the last spot), and her husband said she hadn't gotten home yet from the speech she was giving that afternoon. "Please tell her to call the studio the moment she gets in!" I pleaded.

I called the studio line again. Betty Jo and Francis still hadn't gotten back through. Apparently, the studio lines were having as many issues as I was. We were about 3 minutes into show time, and they were playing lots of commercials to fill the space. While I panicked.

"Wait!" I said excitedly. "Lemme see who's on my buddy list." I scrolled through the AOL buddy list, which has about 100 people on it, many of them authors, but not many people were online, except... Cheryl St. John. Yeah!

I quickly IM'd Cheryl...

LMALCOTT: hey, want to do a brief radio interview?
LMALCOTT: like, NOW?
Cheryl SaintJohn: I'm not sure...
Cheryl SaintJohn: like NOW?
LMALCOTT: yes, right now
Cheryl SaintJohn: wow
LMALCOTT: please?
LMALCOTT: short
Cheryl SaintJohn: tell me how
Cheryl SaintJohn: :-)
LMALCOTT: title of your book
Cheryl SaintJohn: THE BOUNTY HUNTER - most recent - September

At that very moment, I got the word that Kate had just called in to the studio. (And Cheryl was glad she didn't have to go on without any preparation. But I appreciated her willingness to pinch hit on a moment's notice, so I scheduled her for next week, along with Jane Toombs.)

The production crew patched me through a second later, and I barely had time to take a breath until I had to start... talking. And my script was... somewhere, but not in front of me.

I winged it, while rifling through the papers on my desk. And did I mention a double dose of this cough medicine made me feel like I'd drank 3 Cherry Bombs back-to-back? (that's 1 part Triple Cherry Vodka and 1 part Red Bull for those who don't know). And did I mention whatever this hideous illness I have is, it leaves me very short of breath?

I gasped my way through the opening, scriptless, and introduced Kate just as I located the script.

By the grace of God, somehow, the rest of the show went well. The guests were wonderful. And when it came time to stumble and gasp my way through the closing segment (I'd somehow forgotten to script that), I finally admitted I was having difficulty talking because of the medication I'd taken to get through the show.

All in all, it all turned out remarkably well when you consider all the little glitches that kept popping up.

The way I see it now, Mondays are my test. And the broadcasting gods are throwing all the Monday madness at me they can. But eventually, they are going to give up - because I won't. And once they do, maybe Mondays and I will be friends again.