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?"


My Love/Hate Affair

I'm a happily married woman.
Or so I thought.
What happened to those fun things, no, those crazy things I used to do?
Like climbing trees to read a good book?
An unsuspecting tree, this tree has made me ask myself these questions and a few more. I recently moved my desk so that I could glance outside while I work. This tree sits dead center in my view. Look at that crotch! Man! IF I were a few years younger (and not afraid of falling to break something I might need -- like my butt.) IF the tree didn't look so inviting - I don't mind sharing with the birds, squirrels and racoons. IF I weren't so darn practical. IF I had a good book to read, oh wait, I have a Kindle stocked with books. IF I had the time to be a kid again.

That's it...if I were a kid again the excuses wouldn't stop me, not the spiders, the ants, or the scratches I would no doubt earn as I climb. Oh wait! I remember why I stopped climbing trees. It's that stomach racing to my throat as I glance down and try to figure out how to get down...without the broken bones. Yea, and I stopped climbing when the memory became ingrained. Over time I forgot the joys of being young.

But hey, there's always tomorrow and the property managers promise to cut the tree down.

Sorry tree. I hate the fact that you  block most of the sunlight coming through my windows. I do love your beauty and the little critters that scamper in your branches. I hate the seed packets that get tracked into the house. How will I feel as the seasons change? I wonder. How will they bring you down without smashing the fence or building? Will the neighboring trees miss you?
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