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?"


Bus Stop

The winner who gets to choose their prize is:

Today, just for kicks, Shawna Williams gets to share about embarrassing moments. I'm hoping that you guys will put us at ease and post about yours too.

Let me start by saying that I'm a bit of a klutz and embarrassment seems to be a daily occurrence. By my age I've sort of built up a tolerance to it so that I brush if off with a shrug and an "Oh well." In my teenage years though, that wasn't so much the case. Hence, I'm going to draw on those impressionable years for an experience to share.

When I was sixteen I was in my high school's drill team. Every week during football season we preformed halftime routines. Usually the away games were close enough that we just took a school bus over, but one year we ended up in the playoffs, and one of the teams we played against was three hours away. Because of the long drive, the school decided to pony up and charter buses to take us over.

I had never ridden in a charter bus before so needless to say, the bathroom experience was something totally foreign to me. But... after holding my bladder for the trip there, throughout the game, and for the first hour of the trip home, I could no longer stand it. So I braved my way to the back of the bus to relieve myself.

Upon opening the door to the bathroom, an awful smell assaulted my senses. How could anyone stand to breathe long enough o use the bathroom? I really had to go though, so I turned away, inhaled a deep breath, stepped inside and shut the door.

It was pitch black. I didn't dare attempt to use this bathroom in the dark.

I opened the door and called out, "How do you turn on the light?"

The girls closest to the bathroom answered back, "Shut the door and lock it."

Yes... I understood that the bathroom smelled horrible and with the door open that smell was escaping into the cab of the bus, but I needed to know how to turn on the light. So again I asked, "I know, but how do you turn on the light?"

"Shut the door and lock it!"

This was no help. I desperately had to pee and could barely stand to breathe. I was sorry that the smell was bad for them too, but I really needed an answer. And fast. "But, how do you turn on the light?"

"SHUT THE DOOR AND LOCK IT!"

Fine. I'd just have to figure this out by myself. So, I shut the door and fiddled with the handle. How was a person supposed to figure out how to lock the door in the dark? There had to be a light switch somewhere. I began to feel around on the walls, beginning nearest to the door and extending outwards.

And there it was, a button protruding from the wall. Had to be it! So I punched it.

Nothing happened.

I punched it again.

Still dark.

I punched it several times in quick succession.

Nope!

Okay, either the lights were burnt out or that wasn't the light switch. I thought again about what the girls had yelled at me. Shut the door and lock it!

Maybe they weren't just offended by the bathroom smell. I found the door handle again and began to fiddle. There was a lever, what if I pushed it... Whala! On came the lights. Thank goodness. I was turning blue from oxygen deprivation.

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