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?"

An Addiction to words is a Tough Habit to Break.

After writing a short and having to carefully choose which words to use, it is possible that I enjoyed a limitless word count for this scene in my current WIP just a bit too much.

Seeing the pool area from inside the house didn't do it justice. The planters were arranged for paramount effect on the viewer inside, but outside, the greenery's varied layers invited the visitor to explore the large pool area without dripping into the waters cool depths. A fountain lavished the far side of the pool area with a constant flow of water, giving the area a refreshing music of sweet ambiance. Nestled within the green of the potted plants, near the shallow end of the pool, stood a cabana of vibrant yellow and blue striping overhead, and a heavy veil of yellows tied back to the corner posts giving them a sturdy yet yielding sway to any breeze that dared stir the air. The scent of roses lingered in the air. Porsche scanned the area to find the flowering bushes of deepest red nestled against the sandstone building. She momentarily craved the opportunity to repose here in this garden oasis, drinking in the sensations of luxury mixed with quiet pleasure.
Sedrick's nudge on her elbow grounded her, bringing her back to their purpose for being here. "He's over there by in the cabana."
Porsche took several steps in that direction, stopping short. Dr. Whipple's description of Mr. Palmer didn't include his apparent age. She had expected an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair. The man before them was anything but old. He sat looking the other direction, oblivious to their approach. His hair was dark and a bit on the shaggy side, definitely in need of a cut. His shoulders were wide and well muscled.
Sedrick stepped around her, walking up to Mr. Palmer without hesitation. She remained where she stood watching. Mr. Palmer turned his chair slightly and returned Sedrick's greeting. Something about him triggered a familiarity that she couldn't place. She stared at him, unseeing, trying in vain to place what it was.
Mr. Palmer's casual greeting and polite smile with which he greeted Sedrick froze when he looked her direction. A strange expression etched his otherwise handsome features.
"Don't worry man. She's a student. I'll be taking care of you and all your man needs. She don't even need to see your bits."

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