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?"

Sample Saturday

More for Live, Love, Repeat. Enjoy!

"I'm sorry Porsche," Trevor murmured, touching her.
She shivered.
"I didn't realize, I didn't mean what I said. You've been wonderful to help me. Please reconsider."
Porsche sniffled.
"Porsche," he moved his hands to offer her his support.
"Don't touch me," she twisted away from him.
He took a big step toward her, wrapping his arms around her. She struggled against him, writhing to free herself. "I won't force you, Porsche. Go to your happy place."
"I don't want that happy place," she snarled, still struggling.
"No one will hurt you there."
"You will."
"I won't. I promise," Trevor soothed, trying to get her to stop fighting him.
"How can I trust you again?" she gasped.
"Tell me about your happy place."
"I can't," she rasped.
"Tell me so I can help you go there again." Why was she fighting him like this? It didn't make sense.
"You don't want me there. And I don't want to be there." She stood with her head down, her arms hanging limp.
"Why wouldn't I want you to go to your happy place?"
"You don't want me in your arms. You want me on horseback," she whispered.
Trevor gulped. Did she just say her happy place is in my arms? A sense of pride welled up in him. She cared enough about him to consider him safe. He'd wanted her to trust him but hadn't expected this.
"Of course…" Trevor turned her to him. He pulled her to him. He needed to man up and reassure her. "I want you here."
Cautiously, he pulled her closer to him, her nose nearly squished against him. She turned her head to accommodate his embrace.
The horses nickered in the heavy sunlight, its heat radiating off the blackened rocks marking the edge of the butte.
He kissed her brow, causing her hat to slip backwards and fall to the ground again. "I'm honored that you would, if only for a moment, consider my arms a safe place to give you strength to overcome your fears."
"It wasn't your arms that were my safe place." Stunned, he released her enough for her to slip from his arms to retrieve her hat. "The way you were holding me just reminded me of my dad. His arms have always been my safe place. I'm always safe with him, even when I'm hurt, I know he'll keep me safe."
"Oh." The previous pride her words had engendered in Trevor dropped, smashing his ego with calloused precision.
"Besides, I'm not frightened of riding anymore. You helped me back there and I thank you."
"You're welcome…" Like he was about to let her put him on the roller coaster of this conversation. Not.
"It isn't safe up there in the ravine," she stated.
"Why not?" At least she had changed the subject to a more stable topic.
"There's a nest of rattlers near there. They like to come out of their hiding places to warm themselves. By now they'll probably be hiding in the shade to normalize their temperatures and that is when they are the most dangerous. A horse stirs them up and they coil to strike."
Seriously? Rattlesnakes? He refused to let her unnerve him. "But we'll hear them rattle."
"Not always."
"So we'll skirt the ravine and I'll explore it another day." He wanted to chide her for yet another excuse, one of her many. The chicken coop, work, horses difficult to be caught, fear of riding, and now rattlesnakes. Stay calm…and in control.
"Fine, but don't call me if your horse bucks you off and you get bit by a rattler."
"I really doubt that I'll get thrown. I haven't been thrown since I was a kid and that was because the horse refused at a jump. Neither of these two has dumped me yet." He mentally scowled himself for revealing any of his past.
"You've only ridden Buck."
"Not really. I've been schooling both of these boys since your dad said I could ride them. You remember the night he asked you to go riding with me, don't you?"
Porsche's jaw dropped. "That's why…"
Victory! He let a wry smile curl the corner of his lips. "They were in the short pen, easier to catch, the farrier arrived this morning, and they are a bit easier to ride… Your dad said 'yes' if I was willing to 'do the dirty work' so to speak. I was, and I did. It wasn't too terribly dirty and it's done. Now we can continue our ride. Are you willing to?" Trevor returned to his maps, gathering them. He folded them and stuffed them back into the saddlebag. She better be willing, or he'd somehow make her.
"Yes, I will ride. Just not up there by that snake pit."
Not the answer he hoped for, but it wasn't a complete 'no'. He waited for her to mount before leading the way down the narrow path. They went slow, allowing the horses to pick their way. Leaving the trail and riding on the hillside rather than the steep trail, Trevor looked back at her. If he could get her to really enjoy the ride, would she bend her firm resolve? She acted confident in the saddle, was she?
"You feel like stretching their legs?"
"Um…" Porsche stammered.
Stay close to her and she'll give me another excuse. No way I'm taking any more of them. Trevor urged Buck into a gallop, pushing for the lone cottonwood. He overtook it before pulling Buck up. She wasn't anywhere close. He'd wait in the shade while she moseyed her way to him. Maybe she was afraid of riding or maybe she was a real good actress, but he came up here for a reason and it wasn’t to spend his day explaining his motives or coercing her.
The female was downright irritating. Sure, she wanted to be held and coddled, but only when it suited her. When it didn't suit her she had dozens of excuses. He should have seen her game from the beginning. She probably ran a daily log of why a smile in his direction would break her. Oh, I already smiled for three customers. I can't possible spare even one more for Trevor. Oh, we can't go riding today. I'm scared I'll break another nail.
Porsche came into view, keeping Duke at a stilted walk.
"What happened to you? I thought we were going to stretch their legs."
"Stretch their legs, yes. Run out of control, no."
Run out of control. Another excuse. He had full control of Buck the whole time. What was her problem? He kept himself busy with his internal dialogue and tuned in when she mentioned 'herd fever.'
"I didn't think of that. Ralph said Buck would be the difficult one and he was." Trevor had focused on getting Duke to respond to his cues. He'd succeeded but apparently all his hard work had been for not, by the sound of it.  He would like to ride Duke and learn if this was just another excuse from her. "I never even considered that Duke would follow him without regard to his rider. I'm sorry. Do you want to trade horses?"
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