News and an Excerpt

Well another week or so has passed and time for another update. The Botox injections are done with some startling results. The spasms I had in my bicep have all but stopped. These have been constant since my stroke in May. So I start back in occupational therapy again this coming week. Now if I can just figure out why and how I've lost my shoulder movement, I might actually be able to regain use of my arm.

AFO I now wear

My neurologist ordered something called a Walk-Aid for my drop foot. It ain't cheap, but insurance may cover most of the cost. Instead of a heavy plastic boot with Velcro straps which has to be strapped on and inserted into a shoe before I can stand or walk, it's a small belt that send electrical impulses from the nerves in my leg and foot to my brain. This is a vast improvement especially on those urgent early morning mother nature calls.

walk-aid

I never knew it existed so of course I looked it up on the internet. I also ran across a device for the hand and wrist from Bioness. This thing is coolio. The whole thing about stroke recovery is developing new pathways in the brain to take over the damaged part. Both of these do that. I've said from the beginning...I want recovery not adaption.

Now that my news is finished here's an excerpt from Don't Get Your Panties in a Wad. (c) JoAnn Mefford 2012 All Rights Reserved In case y'all noticed I'm adding another pseudonym to my growing list of names. And yes, the cover author name will be changed. My previously traditionally published works will appear in this name rather than the name I used with my publishers when I buy the rights back since they are all nonfiction. Anyhow on to the except of the beginning...Enjoy!

As a way of introduction I'm reminded of an old jump roping rhyme during my youth.
"When I get married who will it be?
The butcher,
The baker,
The candlestick maker,
The rich man,
The poor man,
The beggar man,
The thief,
The tinker,
The tailor,
The doctor,
The lawyer,
The merchant, or
The Indian chief."

I did one better with my life. I became all of them at one time or other. Or at least it felt that way at the time. The butcher and baker came about as a caterer and chef. The candlestick maker and merchant, well that was after my degree in aromatherapy and an herbalist. I dabbled in all things natural based including soap making, and candle making/carving. The rich man (woman), was when I was a corporate trainer and international marketing consultant. It's also my wealth of knowledge and a loving family. I have wallpapered walls with my degrees. The poor man (woman) was after my divorce having four children and on welfare. The beggar man that had to do with fundraising for several charitable organizations I worked for and self publishing. Although I've never been a thief, I did play one in a school production of "Oliver." The tinker, I've puttered around for years creating something out of nothing with recycling old products everything from broken glass to metal work. The tailor, I've been knitting, crocheting, needlework of all kinds, and sewing for almost fifty years. The doctor, I spent years as a life/rescue nurse and Dr. Mom. But I did not play one on TV. The lawyer, for the first thirteen years after my divorce I had filed thirteen contempt of court charges against my ex-husband plus worked for county law enforcement, and was involved with several other court based suits. Need I say more? The Indian chief will be a stretch. I've lived in India and am 1/16th Blackfoot Indian. While I may not be a chief, I'm definitely a queen of my domicile and when I say off with their heads. It's done... especially with the chickens. So you can see I'm the Jill of all trades but master of none. I can relate to any work force. Now, or until my stroke, made my living as an author and ordained minister. I'm over everything: over-creative, over-achiever, over-motivated, over-dedicated, overworked, over-stressed, overweight, over- educated and just over the hill. With all of these skills I wasn't prepared for the devastating effects of a stroke.

My momma always told me, "If you can't laugh at yourself, who can you?" I firmly believe you can adapt to anything and laughter has healing powers. Sometimes it is better to laugh even if it's to keep from crying. This book is not filled with adaptive self helps although there maybe a few I've learned along the way. It is filled with stories of accomplishment that I've learned along the way. Something all stroke survivalists learn with humorous thoughts along the way whether the person is male or female, or young or old.
End of except

Keep writing and loving the Lord.