My Favorite Author Died - E. Lynn Harris (RIP)

To my dismay while creating "Authors On My Kindle", I discovered that E. Lynn Harris died.

In Memoriam: E. Lynn Harris

E. Lynn Harris's family, friends and fans mourn the passing of our
beloved author. He died on Thursday, July 23, 2009 in Los Angeles. He was 54.

In an obituary in the New York Times, Bruce Weber described him as "one of the nation's most popular writers," and said: "Mr. Harris clearly tapped a rich vein of reader interest with his racy and sometimes graphic tales of affluent, ambitious, powerful black men - athletes, businessmen, lawyers and the like - who nonetheless struggled with their attraction to both men and women. His books married the superficial glamour of jet-setting potboilers with an emotional candor that shed light on a segment of society that had received little attention: black men on the down low - that is, men who are publicly heterosexual but secretly have sex with men. Mr. Harris, who was openly gay but who lived for many years in denial or shame or both over that fact, was able to draw on his own experiences to make credible the emotional conflicts of his characters, and his readers, many of them women, were drawn to his books because they addressed issues that were often surreptitiously pertinent to their own lives."

New York Times Obituary

Heart Attack...

SUNDAY, MAY 30, 2010
4:30 PM

(continued from May 20, 2010)

…The pain subsided and I faced the dilemma of going to work or to the hospital. I knew that if I went to the hospital they would keep me and I would spend yet another birthday in a hospital bed. There was the slight possibility that they would prescribe some antibiotics and send me home. Yeah! A day off from work, that sounds good. I began to plan the days’ of activities after the emergency room, knowing in my heart – no pun intended, that I would be kept. An afternoon at the River Street Club, a Men’s Health Club, ha, ha would be fun. I fulfilled a fantasy my last weekday afternoon visit there and was anxious to try it again. My forties have been a decade of releasing my inner pig bottom and I’ll leave it at that for now.

I looked out the window towards the driveway to see if my sister had left for work. She was gone, of course she was it was already 8:15 AM. I’ve spent the last two hours fighting off chest main and calming myself. I proceeded to unlock the doors for some reason. I just had a thought that if I passed out on the floor I would want the medics and my sister to have easy access to the apartment. I didn’t want them to bust the door in and ruin the new paint job that was just done a few weeks ago. An excruciating pain ran through the center of my chest and I clutched my pearls, grab some robitussin; it relieves congestion, drank another 20 ounces of water and rocked myself in the recliner. Alrighty then, the hospital it is. What to pack? A diva must always be prepared for every occasion even the hospital. Well, I knew they would keep me so I wanted to have my things. Cell phone, iPod, Kindle, toothbrush, deodorant, beauty supplies, hair supplies, and a change of clothes. I knew they would not allow me to wear my silk pajamas since they would need easy access to all parts of my body. I would just have to deal with the hospital gown and “Make it work!” Since I wasn’t going to work there was no need for the shirt and tie. Let’s see, something casual and cute. The doctor may be hot but married however I did notice a nicely buffed nurse with no wedding ring or commitment bracelet the last time I was there with my mother. I hoped he would be attending me. He had the bluest eyes I had ever seen and a smile to die for. I darned a pair of black jeans, a blue button down casual shirt, white high tops, blue boxer shorts with black bands around the waist and thighs and a black wife beater. My hair was wavy and set not to move no matter how much I laid on it. I was ready to go, one last inventory check, bag, cell phone, iPod, Kindle, toothbrush, deodorant, beauty supplies, hair supplies, change of clothes, sick but cute look, and a sprits of Jean Paul Gautier. I was ready.

At 8:45 AM I drove myself to St. Mary’s Hospital ER without the use of my navigation system. I had been there several times before and despite the increasing pain in my chest I thought I would be able to find my way there without my mother directing me. Wrong. I made quite a few wrong turns but got there eventually by 9:05 AM. I backed into a parking spot to utilize the backup camera, boy how loved this new car. It took me four attempts to align myself just right between the white lines and a sufficient distance between the rear bumper and the wall. I casually walked into the emergency room with my red Saratoga bag draped over my shoulder. There was one person in the admitting room and one fine dude in the waiting area. He was sitting in the television section so I positioned myself to behind him and to his left so that I could discretely gaze at his profile. Granted he was sick, a deduction made due to where we were, but he was still fine. I gather he was with the other gentleman, possibly his father since the nurse escorted them both into the emergency triage and informed me to sign the paper on the counter. Oh well, maybe I would be in the triage next to him. When I began to fill out the form on the counter my HR persona took over and I began to think HIPPA violation. This form isn’t secure. Anyone could walk up and see what my illness was as well as my name, so much for confidentiality. The description of my symptoms after my name and social security number was chest pain, possible pneumonia. The nurse called me in and asked if I had ever been at St. Mary’s before, requested my insurance cards, asked if my injury/illness was work related and then wanted me to describe my symptoms. Why do they ask you to write down your symptoms and then ask you to verbally describe them again? Can’t health care professionals read? Then the attending nurse asks you the same questions to be followed by the doctor, who again asks the same questions. Hello, I’m in pain here. A little communication amongst the team members would be greatly appreciated. Well, the admitting nurse finally escorted me to the triage area around 9:30 AM and informed me that Nurse Terry would be with me momentarily in the mean time take off my clothes and put on the hospital gown… (To be continued)

Heart Attack

THURSDAY, MAY 20, 2010
11:50 PM

Heart attack! Who knew? I’ve been home exactly one week from the hospital and have already returned to work. Not that I wanted to return. Family Medical Leave without pay is not within my budget. Today was the first day back and the Human Resources Team seemed very pleased to see me. Most of the day was spent catching up on emails and paperwork. I did get tired around three o’clock. Heather asked me how I was doing and I informed her that I was tired. She said that I should get back into the swing of things slowly and consider shortening my day. She reported me to Laura, the supervisor, and I was told to go home. They didn’t want me falling asleep behind the wheel of the car.

On Monday, May 10, 2010 6:00 AM, while going through my morning ritual; coffee, cigarette, check email, and sync iPod all before I get into the shower and begin ritual two, I experienced chest pain. I attributed it to the onset of pneumonia since that was the symptom five years ago when I thought I was having a heart attack. I controlled my breathing, chased the coffee with 20 ounces of water and continued with the morning regimen…. (To be continued)