Category: living with disability-cynthia white

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Friendship

family and friends
family and friends

Even in the able-bodied world, friendships can be complicated. Here are a few categories of friendship I have experienced:

There are golden friendships established in childhood or adolescence. We share in life’s most precious moments—making sense of life’s confusion, first-love, marriage, children, grandchildren, and the grief of lost loved ones.

We share in each other’s dreams and complete the other’s thoughts. Each step of our journey is taken hand-in-hand, side-by-side. Sometimes, as in my case, it’s a sister.

Silver friendships come during or after college. All friendships are special, but these tend to occur in serenpiditous circumstances.

“Serendipity” means “pleasant surprise.” We met these friends on a double-date, in a class, sport, hobby, sorority or fraternity, at a wedding, as the spouse, friend, or relative of our spouse, friend, or relative. My silver friendships are now long-distance friendships due to moves for marriage, job transfers, and life changes. (Another serendipity of these friendships is that no matter the length of time between getting in touch, you pick up where you left off!)

Some friendships are seasonal. Our paths cross at a specific time, for a specific purpose–from a few months to a few years. Then, they disappear from our lives.

This type of friendship is as valuable as the other stable, life-sharing relationships. But just like them, you can’t predict how long they will last. Accept that these friendships have an expiration date. Remember the blessings imprinted in your heart, because its completion is no one’s fault. These friends come into our lives for a season.

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There are also people who don’t need friendship. They’re completely happy being an island to themselves; they seek no greater fulfillment than their family. They will spend time with you when you invite them to, even call you up or stop to talk when you meet in passing. There’s nothing wrong with them, or you, when roots don’t grow.

Some people aren’t friendship material. They have self-serving motivations and come with the fear of being found out. They have nothing meaningful to give; they’re takers. Learn to recognize them for who they are, and don’t hang-on to one for the same reasons.

Specific to SCI and others living with an illness or disease, there are people who want to be charitable and of service. They offer their assistance and time to help with transportation, errands, shopping, meals, whatever needs arise. But in time, let’s face it, our reality wears them down: we may have to cancel or reschedule appointments due to health issues, accidents, or rain; lifting our wheelchair in-and-out of the car, unpredictable terraine, and inaccessibility is difficult for them.

Although these people will be a fond, appreciated acquaintance, life may sometime get in the way of a deepening relationship. Yet, some of them do become lifelong friends. I include them in my golden friendships.

With each friendship, enjoy the silver, and the gold, as well as those of mixed metals. Each will teach you something about yourself.

What kind of friend are you?

 

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“Do be a ‘Do Bee.’ Don’t be a ‘Don’t Bee.’”

You baby boomers should recognize this from Romper Room!

Mr. Do-Bee was an oversized bumblebee who taught the children proper manners. His sentences began with, “Do Bee good boys and girls for your parents!” Of course, there was a Mr. Don’t Bee to teach what not to do.

At the end of each show, Miss Fran (?) held up her magic hand–held mirror, without a mirror, and looked (into the camera, directly at you) to see if you were being good and what you were doing? She always called out the name of the children she saw in “televisionland,” saying, “I can see Johnny and Frankie and Susie and….”

When she held up her magic mirror, my anticipation swelled, only to be deflated when my name wasn’t among the seen. I secretly wanted Miss Fran to see me through her magic mirror. I wanted her to tell me that I, too, was being good. She never did; nor did anyone else, until I was in high school.

I was the middle child between a much older, athletically-talented, popular big brother and a younger baby sister. Not to upset the family status quo, I learned early to take care of myself, to be quiet, and to not make waves. Independence and self-sufficiency became my emotional BandAids.

Unconsciously, we all adopt coping mechanisms for our particular family dynamics. Until we cognize our limiting beliefs, we subconsciously continue our adaptations to environmental, emotional, mental, and physical circumstances with the exact coping behaviors established in childhood.

Toni Morrison brought a subliminal emotional message to my mental attention when she challenged with this question: “Does your face light up when your child (or anyone, for that matter) comes into the room?”

We come into this world wired for parental love and approbation to feel we’re seen so most of us notice if our gaze meets theirs with joy and pleasure. We also see  critical, judgmental scans scrutinizing outward appearance, dress, hygiene, and behavior. It’s in these instances that we conclude: we’re not special. The beauty of who we are isn’t seen.

For me, the abrupt juxtaposition of SCI into my active, appearance-driven lifestyle ushered in positive waves of inner transformation- a double whammy. Not only did I notice other’s avoidance to see me, I began to see that my manners resembled those of Mr. Don’t Bee. Patience, kindness and gratitude called for my attention.

Just as the constant, faithful flow of water breathtakingly sculpts the earth (or hideously erodes landscapes), life interruptions (SCI, disease, illness, grief, depression) are opportunities to smooth down our sharp edges for beautifying change, in spite of other’s “sharp edges.”
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“The constant dripping of water sculpts the stone.” is a paraphrase of the Latin proverb, “Gutta cavat lapidem.”

Rumi got to the point: “If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?” Again, a double whammy: we are responsible ONLY for adjusting our insecurities NOT other’s…concerning anything!

If you’re resisting making character changes as the result of “whatever interruption” is in your life, your rough edges remain. If only you would embrace the irritating rub to mirror your polish.

As Miss Fran said, “I see Matthew and Macie and YOU in computerland, BEcoming THE BEST YOU”bumblebeeDo be a ‘Do Bee.’ Make honey from your bitter flower!

P.S. For a food for thought smorgasbord of how disability nudged me to smooth my rough edges, nibble on my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html

 

 

 

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Enlightened Mind Thoughts

We know ourselves only to the extent of our mind and spirit’s enlightenment. Tragically, most of us have no idea that we are triune beings—mind, body, and spirit or soul. Especially those of us living with a disability, when our body has taken a leave of absence. It’s an automatic separation of body and mind. As a result, we exalt the mind.

As the saying goes, “Give an inch; take a mile,” the mind begins its domination over the body and soul with its analyzing, judgements, and control tactics, sabotaging peaceful resolve with its endless mental commentary about everyone and everything.

Insinuating that its analytics are supreme, the mind stealthily convinces you to believe your thoughts, good or bad, about self-worth and behavior. It rationalizes and excuses guileful motivations, unkind words, and hateful actions because we haven’t dealt with our feelings; and at worst, we’re convinced our behaviors are deserved retribution for other’s perceived wrongs.

The mind’s battle rages, further maiming our lives by confusion, fear, doubt, and concurrent physical maladies.

Deceived, we think that these thoughts are true. In truth, they are mere thoughts, often misguided and out-of-control. If the premise of “What Women Want” were true, we would all be committed or imprisoned by our thought life! Here are three truths concerning your thoughts:

The first is that you are not your thinking.

Your thoughts try to supervise, manage, regulate, and make sense of your environment. Many poor decisions are reached through subliminal thinking, meaning: we’re oblivious to the process of our thought streams. They’re rabbit trails!

When we attempt considering the pros and cons of our options, we have no idea how we reached the destination of decision. In hindsight, have you ever been perplexed by how you arrived at a particular conclusion?

The second truth is that you can delete, rewrite, copy and paste your thoughts.

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The mind should be subservient to the spirit. Don’t allow your mind to use you. Use your mind for developing constructive thought patterns. Practice visualization to uplift your spirit, and meditation and prayer to bring rest and health to your body. http://conversationswithcynthia.com/2012/09/14/soul-soaring-n…elchair-needed/   ‎

The third truth, as I see it, is that the spirit does not die. It lives on after our physical body expires.

Your deeper spiritual self should tutor your mind, not vice versa. Make time each day to turn off the TV, Twitter, Facebook, your Blackberry. Still your mind. Get in touch with your higher consciousness–your spirit. Breathe in peace. Breathe out stress. Let it go.

Alzheimer’s and dementia are evidence that mind over matter isn’t always the path to enlightenment. Like the rest of us, they’re created in the image of God, yet their mind is gone.

You are NOT your mind. You are bigger than your thinking. Quiet your mind’s incessant chatter. Let your spirit claim its role to rule.

For some light-hearted humor about my thoughts trying to railroad my thinking, read http://conversationswithcynthia.com/2012/07/12/disabled-or-enabled-thoughts/

For more on how to change negative thought patterns, you can PURCHASE my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU, HERE http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html.

I’m open for reviews!

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Sails of Optimism

There’s plenty of research correlating that our bodies, able-bodied and disabled, respond to what we think and believe. (I talk more of how I learned, and continue to practice, this in my book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU, in “As A Man Thinketh.” http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html) In addition, I believe that our bodies not only “eavesdrop” (Chopra Deepak) on our thoughts but also believe them, negative or positive; so, I choose to see/envision what I want to believe will happen.

Since my brain, eyes, and heart co-habit one body, my heart’s desire is to see what I believe. I watch, in my mind’s eye, my nerves innervating whatever muscle I’m struggling to move since becoming disabled, as I progress through my day or as I exercise. Whether I feel defeated or have almost fallen, some days I even watch myself stand up and walk.

Any way you look at it, whether it’s physical return or emotional adjustment, time heals. If you’re a new SCI, caregiver, or friend, give yourself/patient/friend a two-year post injury pass to accumulate answers to impatient questionings. Continue therapy, positive thinking, and planning for the future—like it will turn out as you hope; tweak as you go.

After the second year, introduce yourself to the new you, happily making your acquaintance. By then, you’ll have a good perspective of your abilities and will have gained a new respect for the champion you’ve become, no matter what.

Although there are occasional setbacks with any SCI, my body’s sensation level took another leap after 36 years. I barely had any sensation the first two years post injury; it’s improved slowly but surely, as have my confidence and problem-solving skills dealing with and eliminating the occasional curve balls life with SCI tends to throw.
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sailboat on water Just remember: acceptance doesn’t mean dropping your anchor wherever you are in your recovery today. It means embracing where you are, in case you’ve reached your physical plateau, but keeping your optimistic sails open, not to miss even the gentlest breeze of progression.

While my body hasn’t fully evidenced what I’m believing, I’ll continue working toward it, believing that I’ll see it…with a finger up in the wind!

 

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Life Is: But A Prayer

Despite life’s uncertainties and living with a disability, I believe our lives are but a prayer.

What is prayer? An address or petition in words, thoughts, emotions, or actions, to God or a god, person or thing for help and/or enlightenment, of praise and/or thanksgiving.

For as long as I can remember, within me has been a deep knowing that God is there. He is my Father, and Friend. Even in the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual battles living with a disability, I know ALL is well with my soul. It’s not up for debate. It’s a foregone conclusion. It’s the truth. Period. All I have to do is be still, be quite, and b-r-e-a-t-h-e.  It’s so simple to pause, yet so difficult to stop thinking, worrying, emoting, and imagining.

Like I told you in my last week’s article, I’m in a bout with the herpes zoster virus: shingles. Before the blisters appeared, I ignored the early “electric nerve tingling” symptoms; they’re typical in living with SCI.

The shingles diagnosis was a shocking surprise for me because my mother had told me that I never had chicken pox. Well, obviously, the truth is: I never evidenced symptoms of chicken pox, but the virus took up residence anyway!

From reading my books, you know what I believe and where I dwell, despite the battle. Shingles is a physically painful and mentally challenging battle.

My eyes behold the inflamed skin encircling scattered islands of blisters. My body’s tactile sensitivity to the viral nerve attack keeps me mindful during the day and awakens me in the night. So, how do I respond?

Just as the confused house wren awakens me at 3:55 and 4:15 many mornings, I have succumbed to the confusing ifs: What if the virus lives on? If it hasn’t died, will it present its venomous head again?

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I don’t like to think these thoughts anymore than you do. But, I take security in knowing that they’re merely thoughts.

Thoughts aren’t necessarily prophetic—thinking them will not make them come about.They’re not the truth—thinking them doesn’t make them real.

I can hear my thoughts, but I don’t have to listen to them. I filter my thoughts by weighing their motivation. If they’re beneficial, creative, and productive, I give them power by indulging their possibilities. If not, they get deleted…every time they try to put fear in my heart. As you know, some thoughts are very persistent! (I dedicated one section of my book HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html on how to change unwanted though patterns.)

The other morning when my faithful little wren woke me, I was instantly made aware of the shooting nerve fire down my leg. Simultaneously, I was distracted by what I thought the wren was saying. As clear as any chirp ever was, it said, “You feel the pain. You feel the pain. You feel the pain.”

I certainly could—feel the pain, and I gratefully thanked God.

Sometimes, we have to accept the good along with the bad. That’s life. Whether it’s living with a disability or dealing with life’s curve balls, no one is exempt. The important thing is where we put the emphasis.

Practice makes perfect.

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WOEISME! Shingles!

Let me say it again, WOE IS ME!

I’m sure you noticed that last Friday’s post was a lonely quote. Let me explain:

On the previous Monday, I began experiencing a dull pressure on the inside of my left knee. Tuesday, there was swelling, and the dull pressure increased to sharp intermittent pains. Assuming it to be SCI-related nerve firings but wanting to be safe, I called to report it to my doctor. His nurse informed me that their computers were down, but she would give him my message.

He called Wednesday urging me to go to the emergency room without delay. He called in orders for a bilateral venous ultrasound to rule out the possibility of a deep blood clot. Meanwhile, the sharp pains had turned into intermittent shocks of fire and progressed up my thigh and down my knee–unlike SCI nerve pain. Also, there were two angry patches, one on the top of my knee and the other on the inside of my upper thigh, near a recent cat scratch. Hmmm.

Upon admittance, I reiterated my growing symptoms and pointed out the curious rash. Seeming to have plugs in their ears, the nurses made notes and the technicians rotely performed the ultrasound (thankfully, no blood clot), wrote out a prescription for pain/inflammation, and dismissed me. In my typical fashion, I didn’t fill the prescription.

After a miserable night, I went to First Care, a privately owned emergency medical facility. Although my left leg was now  numb, it hurt to the touch, and there were two more big red patches—like separated twins—one on either side of my knee, then a third one on my left calf.

This time, the doctor listened, joked, examined, and re-examined my cat scratches. His diagnosis: cat scratch fever.  He wrote out a prescription for an antibiotic and topical ointment.

Finally! I felt like this doctor knew what he was talking about. I took a couple of Bufferin for the pain, confident that the antibiotic would kick in within 24 to 36 hours. It was Thursday afternoon.

By Saturday, the intermittent burning shocks ran down both sides of my knee and on down behind my ankle. The patches had multiplied with painful blister-like eruptions inside the angry inflammations, and I stopped the prescribed ointment because it heightened the pain! I had to keep my skirt hem off my left leg. Due to a new symptom of back pain, I was propped up in bed by 5:00 p.m.

My sister came over, took pictures on her iPhone, and sent them to her sister-in-law, now on ER doctor. She thought it looked like shingles. After one more round of emailing pictures to a doctor specializing in shingles, it was confirmed: shingles!

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At 11:00 p.m. and at my protest, my sister picked up four written prescriptions—an anti-viral, an anti-inflammatory, a pain pill for viral pain, and another pain pill. Again, they’re unfilled.

I was past the “72 hours after the rash appears” for the vaccine and some medications, so I chose a natural approach. I’M NOT RECOMMENDING THIS, but I’m only five days in, after a four-day-delay, bathing these dozen islands of rashes in a selection of Young Living’s Essential oils.

I’ve had two straight nights of restful sleep without pain spasms, the blisters are drying up and their encircling red patches have disappeared. Rash pain is mild. I could wear my skirt over my leg today without pain chills from its touch, though I prefer it off that leg. I’m still experiencing some back pain, the occasional headache, chills, and stomach aches–all symptomatic.

I am SO-O-O grateful it’s only on one leg. Countless times, I’ve thought of Job who suffered with boils over his entire body! After the emotional stress of all his servants, livestock, and family being killed and his home destroyed, I wonder if the boils were shingles. He had them from the top of his head to the soles of his feet! I can’t imagine the pain.

I’ll have an update next week.

Have you any experience with shingles?

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Don’t Worry, Be Happy

 

Let this be your daily exercise:

“That which God said to the rose, and caused it to laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart, and made it a hundred times more beautiful.”~Rumi
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What joys have you gained by opening your heart, by being hopeful, truthful, and in the moment–forsaking cynicism, hypocrisy, and fear?

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Love’s Concessions

We’re all aware of the necessity for clear communication, but how many of us realize the importance of give-and-take or compromise to occur for relationships to flourish and thrive?

Each category of disability suffers a specific physiological loss in its communicative efficiency, e.g., deafness and lack of verbal speech. But universally, the abled-bodied and disabled alike, suffer a greater and more divisive element in communication: the mental and emotional disconnect of misunderstanding, conflict, and discord. For clarification, indulge me for a couple of definitions.

In civil or corporate cases, lawyers, a judge or a judge and jury serve as judiciary arbiters because a compromise—an agreement for both sides to give up something to improve a situation—couldn’t be agreed upon out of court.

Because the powers that be could not reach mutual concessions for peace in times of war, an unbiased mediator is required for a successful compromise—to find an intermediate concession. Even on a world level, The United Nations was created as an international forum to develop positive relationships, promote peace and security, and establish cooperation in solving problems around the world.

Without saying, there is a great divide on the worldwide humanitarian level with societal differences. Mediation is critical for peace. I’m honing in on our individual responsibility for compromise to maintain peace in our romantic, caregiver, and life-long relationships.

Too many of us think that the endorphin overdrive we feel when romantically drawn to someone IS love. They’re neurotransmitters. Period. If they were resultant from true love, we would live in Utopia.

While we flippantly disregard the saying, “You can’t live on love alone.” it silently heralds the importance of commitment, communication, and trust. I believe that the cornerstone for any “normal” partnership or relationship (disabled or not) is commitment; but without the mortar of communication and trust, they crumble in misunderstandings and conflict.

A relationship without these is like the Pacman game; day-to-day realities (Pacman) consume the endorphin-producing emotions, especially for spousal or significant other (SO) carer collaborations. They’re REALLY hard. When life happens, we believe we’ve fallen out of love. When in truth, we never were. It was an endorphin-induced high. We came down.            

All relationships run into difficulties, but when a spouse takes on the role of caregiver for the disabled other, it can be stress and hurt 24/7…if without compromise. Instead of idolizing the notion of what love is—longing glances, stomach butterflies, endorphin highs—then hurling blame, judgement, and criticism at each other when its intoxicating vapor evaporates, focus on character and integrity.

How does your significant other deal with conflict; with wisdom and understanding or with anger and criticism?

How do they solve problems; with a hopeful heart and hearing ears or with denial and finger-pointing?

Are they fair, kind, and honest or irresponsible and combative?

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When things get tough, love is having each others’ back.

If your relationship is characterized by frequent conflicts, and you are disrespected by your significant other, give them time and the freedom to grow, just not at your emotional expense. If quarrels and resentments characterize your partnership as the 24/7 caregiver of your spouse or SO, enlist help. If not, these can develop into debilitating co-dependent dynamics, unhealthy for both.

If you are the one who doesn’t want to give to or make compromises in your relationship, at least give them the truth. Own it. Be an adult.

Even after heart-safe trust is an earned harbor, when you know a truth is necessary, but it will be hard to receive, wait until you can speak it genuinely, in love; never off the tongue rashly, sarcastically or concealed behind humor. That’s unloving, deceitful, and a stab in the back.

Instead of the give-and-take or compromise in love, I think it’s the give-and-get of love. Remember my article, “Beware: Karma—BANG! BANG! DUCK! http://conversationswithcynthia.com/2013/03/15/be-aware-of-ka…bang-bang-duck/ . What you give, you get in return; hopefully, it’s respect, consideration, kindness, dependability, patience, forgiveness, an available shoulder, a sympathetic ear.

Upon further consideration, if there is anything to take, how about your dishes to the kitchen, the garbage to the curb, and the dog for a walk.

I want you to be the best you! http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU-from A to Z

P.S. Here http://personalitycafe.com/articles/112444-five-love-languages-explained.html you will find a synopsis of Gary D. Chapman’s book, The Five Love Languages, an eye-opening explanation of how we give and interpret love. A revelatory read!

  

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Be Your Favorite Color

Here’s the hook: The only way to find out what “be your favorite color” means is to read my new book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU-from A to Z. It’ll be worth it!

My purpose for writing Views…was to share a little of my journey adjusting to disability and to open discouraged hearts with hope. No matter the life interruption, there IS life after. As a follow-up, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU is to open eyes and minds to discover that purposeful future.

Aware of the many advanced self-improvement books written by highly educated doctors, PhDs, scientists, etc., I decided to write one on an elementary level, a four-part 101, of things that worked for me. I begin with leading clues to discover the real you, and how-to get to know yourself after losing touch.

Part Two is the common denominator for the sober awakening that life has passed us by—the impact of thoughts on physical, spiritual, emotional, and mental health.

Part Three offers 6 states-of-mind to assist in identifying what roadblocks may have detoured you on your journey of self-discovery. They are: boredom, denial, excuses, laziness, fear, and ingratitude.
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And of course, a tongue-in-cheek Part Four on my deep thoughts to stimulate yours. Like, what’s a burp? And, how-to prevent them; as well as, a chapter on the association, connection, and benefit of color in our lives. You CAN be your favorite color!

No matter what has delayed the fulfillment of your destiny—never knowing, parental brainwashing, incident/disability, or forgetting—it’s never too late to discover your north star, your passion and purpose in life.

P.S. Because of the fancy formatting, fun fonts, and novel use of color, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html  could not be converted for iPad, Nook, and Kindle readers. It’s one-of-a-kind! I’m working on a PDF for you who are digitally addicted.

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The Third Time’s The Charm!

I want to thank everyone who has purchased my first book, Views From My Chariot: A Wheelchair Oddity, and send a special SHOUT OUT to those of you who have contacted me with your kind comments. It’s been a fun reunion, of sorts, catching up with old friends and classmates, as well as making new friends!

Writing Views… was a cathartic experience and the impetus for writing this second book, HOW TO BE THE BEST YOU-from A to Z.

My original goal was to finish the novel I began several years back. But, I began writing a short 10-15 page eBook. When the idea of writing it in color came to me, having never seen one before, it was like receiving a blood doping transfusion. Talk about a performance-enhancing drug!

Then came the downer: somehow, I deleted it at seven thousand words! (In the “Prologue,” I relate how I declared writing war one (WWI) and became “Wheelchair Warrior” the next day.) Amazingly, one month and seventy-five pages later, I stopped to reassess: It would have to be a book.

I learned from my first book that the printing process can add fifteen or more pages. I also knew that color books price higher due to their exorbitant publishing expenses. Therefore, I wanted to stay under one hundred pages for a retail price of $24.

For anyone considering a writing career, pay close attention.

I shot it off to the editor, down under. Three weeks-worth of ping-pong emails—rethinking and rewriting—is arduous work. Then, I sent my edited manuscript back to the publisher for book formatting.

DING! Round two of my writing war (WWII): I’m told I owe an additional $225.

What! For what?

It was now an estimated 110 pages.

NO WAY!

After a half dozen email volleys, inquiring and arguing that I kept it under 100 pages, I found out that my editor had enlarged the font, to ease her read, and forgot to return it to its original size. A larger font increases the number of pages. Duh!

I PAID for her mistake, because I didn’t discriminate the size difference. Now, it was off to the graphic artist for fancy formatting and fun fonts.

This is another couple of weeks of intense eagle-eyed comparisons, assuring that all my bullet lists, graphics, and colored text have been entered and colored correctly.

Once this task is completed, and I approve it, it goes to the printer. Within the week, a sample ‘galley print’ (book) is mailed directly to me for the final approval before it’s listed for sale.
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Aside from writing it, I’ve also read it umpteen times by now. I’m a speed-reader! I can spot an undotted “i” and uncrossed “t” lickety-split; even faster.

I spy a misspelled name. SHOOT! Why didn’t the editor catch that? I choose to let it go.

I see a one-letter color bleed that had previously been corrected after I called attention to it. DARN! Will anyone else see it; hopefully not.

Then, the deal breaker: I had noticed a color change the graphic artist had made to some subtitles. I reasoned that it didn’t matter and dismissed it. BUT upon reading the physical book, the color change caused even me, the author, confusion.

Pay $100 to pass GO!

WWIII: Back it went to the graphic artist for a handful of correction; then boomeranged on to the printer and back to me. FINALLY!

Within the three days to list it with all the book stores, two friends read it. It was when directing my second friend to a specific section that I realized it wasn’t there.

I scrolled through a gazillion email attachments to discover that the designer had accidently deleted it midway through our collaborations. Neither of us caught it. Sale freeze!

WWIV: It went back to the graphic artist (pro bono), the publisher (who extended grace and charged me half the ‘new file’ fee, $98), the printer, and on to me—for the third time, and the third sample book.

The third time’s charm; the paperback is READY to read! Glory, glory hallelujah!

ORDER AWAY! http://booklocker.com/books/6811.html

P.S. I’m weighing the conversions. The only way to replicate the colored fun fonts and fancy formating is to make graphics of each, then manually insert those graphics! That’s conversion cost plus the added labor expense. And, only the iPad, Kindle Fire, and Color Nook read in color. Most people have the basic Kindle. What to do!