As a Multiple Sclerosis patient, it has become necessary for me to reinvent myself. I have ... and continue to ... refuse to lie down and die, or in this case, follow the normally prescribed drugs and treatments that do nothing to defeat my disease. I am not only surviving by pursuing alternatives, I am thriving. I do the things specialists told me I would never be able to do. I walk and hope to one day even run regularly. I retain my cognitive and creative abilities for the pleasure of my readers. Although you may never see me on my daily walk, you are welcome to read my novel(s) and in doing so, come to ask yourself, "How can the 'out of the box' protocol she has followed, help my loved one with an autoimmune disease like Multiple Sclerosis?"

Fickle Friday

Betsy and I are comparing stories today. Hope you'll feel free to share one of your own too. Betsy, where were you born?

In a hospital that no longer exists in St. Johns, Arizona. This little town was hardly even heard of before Salt River Project took an interest in parking their power plant there. Not that it’s a thriving metropolis now—I think the cows still outnumber the people 100 to 1.

That just might beat my being born in a resthome for the aged! (for those of you unfamilar with my story, see my profile on the left sidebar.)
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

That’s an easy question. There are two places that have always intrigued me. I love the look, the weather, the people, the scenery of New Zealand. But I hear it’s pretty expensive. My other choice would be Australia because of its political climate.

I too would like to try Autralia, but not for the same reasons. I think my draw is an awesome series that my family has recently gotten hooked on. Can I live on a station and just ride horses? No chores for me, I know how hard that can be and shearing sheep? Ugh.
What is the funniest thing that ever happened to you or you witnessed that made you laugh so hard you couldn’t catch your breath?

I even wrote a short story about this. We had this pesky mouse that was terrorizing our home. We’d see him scamper across the floor when we’d least suspect him. He’d chew on everything, especially in the middle of the night keeping us awake. One afternoon, I saw him run behind a cookie sheet I had propped behind the kitchen sink to dry. I slipped a cup on either side and caught him. I took him directly into the bathroom and proceeded to flush him down. Who knew that mice were such good swimmers? That little bugger would NOT go down. All of the children had gathered round to watch its demise. After about the third flush my husband reached into the toilet and picked him up by the tail. “Any creature with that much will to live deserves to.” He took the mouse outside and let it go on the bank of the canal. In my mind I pictured some feral cat making a meal of that mouse. Shortly thereafter we procured a cat!

EEk! my sister once had a mouse try to build a nest in her hair while she was sleeping!
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