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?"

Saturday Sampler - more Live, Love, Repeat

The shower ordeal, complete with its embarrassment behind her, Mercedes scrutinized Dr. Whipple, gauging his sincerity and squaring her shoulders to defend her position. She wasn't bailing on Trevor or his care. She intended to do whatever therapy he needed to recover, just not his 'private man stuff.'
"I'm not a nurse and if you want me to build a trust between Trevor and myself, it can't happen again. Once was humorous but twice would be demoralizing for both of us."
"Then we will make some changes."
Whatever the changes were that Dr. Whipple intended to make, they couldn't come soon enough. Mercedes convinced Cedric to come to Trevor's home about the time Trevor got up to help him with his daily toilet for the next few days.
On a morning Mercedes couldn't sleep, she arose and dressed. Her reflection in the mirror showed dark circles under her eyes. Sleep consistently eluded her since that first night when Trevor had fallen and needed her help. She tied her hair up in a messy bun, put on a cool lavender top and clean yoga pants. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and strengthen her resolve to be professional. Her first item of business this morning was to check on Trevor.
She eased his bedroom door open just far enough to see him. He lay on his back, the bed sheet covering his lower torso and legs. His well-tanned chest was bare to the warmth of the open air. She stood there, transfixed. She closed her eyes long enough for her memory of the water from the shower running down his chest, swirling its delicate fingers around the trail of hair from his chest to his, well… She felt heat rush to her cheeks. …His nether regions.  Her eyes popped open as if to capture the fleeting image in the reality of the moment.
He looked so serene. Sleeping, like he was now, he didn't appear paralyzed but like a tanned god, even though in a relaxed state, his pectoral muscles appeared well defined.  A sexy gathering of chest hair decorated his chest just as it had in the shower. In the dim light of his room the hair appeared a slightly different shade from his beard. She hadn't noticed that before, she'd been too entangled in keeping her eyes off his bits. If she stepped closer, she could touch the stubble of his beard. She willed her feet to stay put, as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. His beard wasn't all she could touch.
Don't get involved, she told herself. Her reprimand did little good. Tiny Porsche needled her incessantly about giving up what could have proven a regular private ogling session. The tiny minion even hinted at the possible fringe benefits.
Mercedes rubbed her fingernails across the tips of her thumbs wondering what it would be like to rake her fingers through his chest hair and the narrow trail of sparse hairs. Just as on that morning in the bathroom with guaranteed privacy, she looked but managed not to touch. She licked her lips, moistening them. With a sigh of longing, she stepped back, pulling the door shut just enough to block out the light from the lights in the great room.

Time to start the coffee. Scott, Trevor's new day nurse, would arrive within the next hour. She reached for a blend of roasted French vanilla and started the coffee, savoring its rich aroma.
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