I’ve never been one to believe in superstitions. At least, not until I really started thinking about common ones and what happens when I encounter one. I never walk under a ladder, I’m very careful with handling mirrors, and I spent years studiously avoiding stepping on cracks in the sidewalk, hearing the old superstition reciting in my head: “If you step upon a crack, you will break your mother’s back.”

These superstitions are ingrained in our culture and have been for centuries. Doing genealogy research on my family, I came upon a story from one hundred years ago about my great-great-grandmother getting all the way to the train station before realizing what the date was. She’d packed up her trunk with all her belongings, ready to move to another relative’s home half a state away. Upon hearing that it was Friday the 13^th, she turned to her daughter and said, “Take me back home. I’m not traveling today.” My husband’s grandmother studiously changed direction if a black cat even hinted at crossing her path, fully embracing another common superstition.

Thankfully, I don’t subscribe to other common superstitions. I don’t have a lucky pair of underwear or socks that I have to keep gross to accomplish things. If it comes down to washing the luck out of a pair of dirty shorts, I’m happy to remain unlucky! This brings me to my latest short story published in an anthology of stories from eight authors entitled Romance is a Drag: A Queer Anthology #1. “Jake’s Tryst” takes place in Los Angeles, following the budding romance between a soccer superstar and a local drag queen.

Jake Cavegn is superstitious, believing he can only perform well and win by abstaining from alcohol and men during the playoff season. With a championship win under his belt, he can finally let loose and consider a hookup now that the postseason is complete. His team goes out to Tossers, a bar in West Hollywood, to watch a drag show. Olivia Tryst captivates Jake with her performance, and after a drink, Jake takes Olivia home for the night. While he enjoyed the night with Jake, Brodie Rossi, Olivia Tryst out of drag, doesn’t do repeats, preferring a one-night-only performance with hookups. Jake’s persistence inspires Brodie to take a chance and date him, but Brodie’s branding as the family screw-up keeps his guard up.

Can Brodie accept Jake’s superstitions into the next playoff season, and can Jake open Brodie to the possibility of a lasting relationship? Find out in Romance is a Drag, now available on all platforms.

Links:
Universal Link: https://books2read.com/u/mvGOkq
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Romance-Drag-1-Queer-Anthology/dp/B0F1HX3M1V
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/romance-is-a-drag-shane-k-morton/1147012142
Queer Romance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/book/romance-is-a-drag-anthology/
Add it to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/229150671

Excerpt:

“When’s your next performance?” Jake asked, focusing on Brody. He still had some makeup on, highlighting his cheeks and eyes.

“Thursday night. Momma Belter has us booked for drag queen bingo at a senior center in Weho, and then back at the club.” Brody set his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands. “Friday is Genderfuck and Saturday is Pageant. Category is…” Brody paused.

Chloe, their waitress, returned with two pints. “Here you go. Food should be up soon.”

After she left, Jake stared at Brody. “What’s the pageant theme?”

“Sports Star Realness.” Brody took a sip of his cider.

Jake laughed. “You’re kidding.”

Shaking his head, Brody set his glass on the table. “Serving up glamorous sporty looks for the new millennium.”

“What are you wearing for that?” Captivated by Brody’s descriptions of what he had in mind, Jake marveled at his sheer creativity and ingenuity.

“I haven’t decided on the Saturday look yet. It has to slay on the runway but be free enough to perform in.” Brody frowned. “I don’t know much about sportsball. Not that the other queens do either, but I plan to win the competition.”

“Competition?” Jake asked, surprised at this aspect of performing.

“Tossers is paying out five thousand dollars to a charity of the winner’s choice. Pride House needs every penny it can get.” Brody’s face hardened, determination shining from his eyes. “I plan to win for them.”

Jake had never been hotter for anyone. Not only insanely talented and gorgeous, but Brody also worked for a charity that literally saved young people’s lives.

“I could help you if you want.” He winked at Brody. “I happen to know a lot about”—he air-quoted—“sportsball.”

His eyes lighting up, Brody leaned forward. “Yeah?”

“Sure,” Jake said, thoughts of Brody in slutty versions of jerseys and shorts flashing through his mind. “I have some stuff you can borrow if you want to come home with me tonight.”

Brody frowned, but before Jake could say anything, Chloe returned, carrying their dinners.

“Here you go, folx.” She placed the plates in front of them. “Get you anything else?”

“Everything looks great,” Jake said, giving her a smile.

Brody nodded but stayed quiet.

“Enjoy,” she said and strode over to another table.

“Like I said, I don’t really do repeats,” Brody said quietly. He poured the dressing over the salad, not looking at Jake.

“Niall’s gone for a few days.” Jake stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork, undeterred. “We’d have the place to ourselves.” He popped the tomato into his mouth.

Brody placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his wrist. “I can’t have attachments.”

“Consider it another hookup,” Jake said. “I have some awesome cheese for an omelet in the morning.”

Raising a brow, Brody seemed to warm to the idea. “What kind of cheese?”

“It’s an herbed asiago.” More confident, Jake leaned in. “It came from a local farm, and the flavor is fantastic. I’d be happy to share it with you.”

“You make it hard to say no.” Brody frowned again. “This has to be a no-strings-attached arrangement.”

“I can work with that,” Jake said. “Although, you’ll have to return the gear I loan you.”

Brody relaxed and picked up his fork and knife. “Okay.”

****

Contest

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, share whether you have any superstitions!

About the Author

Brent Archer was born in Spokane, Washington, and lived there most of his adolescent life. At 18, he left for Seattle to attend the University of Washington for Electrical Engineering. Quickly, it became apparent that he wasn’t wired for the required science and differential equation classes, and so he switched his major to International Studies with a minor in History. After graduation, he pursued an acting career in musical theater and dance. Once thirty hit, however, he decided to focus on numbers, getting a certificate in accounting, and became the Financial Controller of a non-profit arts and music organization.

Though writing most of his life, he never thought to submit his work for publication. In 2012, he visited his cousin Delilah Devlin in Arkansas, and she prodded him to write a story and submit it. So, he did, and it sold right away. With the encouragement of Delilah, his other writing cousin Elle James, and his husband, Brent embarked on a writing career. He’s loving the journey, finding inspiration and a story everywhere he goes, whether it be the local coffee shop, driving through each of the United States, or riding the train to explore the world.

Ella was born enslaved on February 4, 1851, at The Hermitage, President Andrew Jackson’s plantation. Her father, who had purchased his own freedom, was unable to purchase his wife. He was allowed to purchase Ella’s freedom for $350 when her mother made it clear to her owners she’d rather her daughter die than live as a slave. Her father remarried and moved his wife, Ella, and her half-sister Rosa to Ohio, where Ella attended school in Cincinnati and took piano lessons. When he died in 1866, Ella provided financial support by playing at local functions, working as a maid, and teaching. In 1868, she moved to Nashville and enrolled in Fisk University (then the Fisk Free Colored School). Teaching enabled her to afford her classes. One of those assignments was as assistant music teacher at Fisk under Fisk’s treasurer and musician George White, making her the school’s only black staff member at the time.

White formed Ella and eight others into the Fisk Jubilee Singers. On October 6, 1871, they set off on their first tour to help their financially struggling school. At age seventeen, Ella was their primary vocal coach and eventual director. She arranged the music they sang on their tours and accompanied the singers on piano, organ, and guitar. Over seven years, they raised $150,000, which enabled the building of Fisk Hall.

At first, they sang popular and classical music but eventually added slave songs (spirituals) to their repertoire, which proved more popular. Over time she collected and transcribed over one hundred of them. Her work with the Jubilee Singers led to the recognition and appreciation of Negro spirituals worldwide.  You can read an account of her experiences in her own words here: https://digital.lib.utk.edu/collections/islandora/object/volvoices%3A9934#page/1/mode/2up

In 1878, she married George Washington Moore. They had three children: Elizabeth, born 1879; George, born 1883; and Clinton, born 1892. Moore became ordained, pastored in Washington D.C., and worked as the Superintendent for Southern Church Work for the American Missionary Association. While he ministered, Ella lectured and organized Jubilee choirs. Together, they also championed temperance and other social advancement campaigns. In 1892, they moved back to Nashville and lived near Fisk where Ella began assisting with Fisk’s choirs. She became a researcher and continued lecturing on women’s and race issues.

Like many of her counterparts in the 19^th century, Ella used her success to help others. She paid tuition for a number of Fisk students, including her half-sister. By this time, she had other family members living at her Nashville home, including her birthmother and stepmother.

After delivering a graduation speech at an AMA school in Alabama, she returned home ill. She died on June 9, 1914, and was buried in Nashville. The site of her home has an historical marker erected by the Tennessee Historical Commission.

There’s an old gospel song whose words are “Let the life I live speak for me.” Ella Sheppard Moore’s accomplishments during her lifetime certainly speak for her.

For a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card, share your thoughts with me in the comments.

“The $5.00 Kiss of Life” by Michal Scott
from First Response

Trapped by the small-town conventions imposed on her, a pastor’s spinster daughter finds rescue in the town bad boy’s very public kiss.

Excerpt:

Lord have mercy, when had she become such a coward? It was just a kiss, for goodness sake. And in the name of a good cause. It would be fun. Besides, she didn’t have to present him with the card. She could just as easily pick one of the official kisses she’d written for her father on the Kiss for A Cause booth’s sign.

Beverly firmed her lips, took a deep breath, and stepped up to the booth.

“Come to pucker up for a good cause, Beverly?”

The mischievous glint in Rob’s smile and equally mischievous lilt in his tone did nothing to still the throb between her legs. “

You’re a good sport to do this,” she said. “Given the way people talk about you and all.”

Rob chuckled. “Hey, if a bad reputation can’t do a good turn once in a while, what’s the point of having it?”

“You saved lives in the war. You’ve saved lives here in town. It’s time you make people acknowledge that for a change.”

“Pigs’ll sprout wings and fly before that happens.” Rob snorted. “Let them think what they want. I’ve lived with too much space around me to be hemmed in by their small minds.”

Beverly sighed. “I’ve always admired that about you, Rob. You don’t care what people say about you.”

He waved that off. “Sure, I care. I’m just very good at handling the slights.”

“No, really,” she insisted. “You don’t seek anyone’s approval. You live by what you’re for, not what you’re against.” She looked at the rates on the booth kissing chart, and then considered the card in her pocket. “I admire you.” She cast her gaze down. “I wish I were more courageous, like you.”

“No time like the present,” he teased.

Beverly looked up and saw him thumb toward the kissing rate chart.

“Do you have the courage to be seen getting a kiss before God and everybody from the town bad boy?”

Buylink: Amazon – https://amzn.to/3dRvwLE

My first dog, Keiko, was a black lab/shepherd mix.  My brother owned a black German Shepherd.  She’d gotten loose and come home pregnant. We didn’t even know who the dad was until the puppies were born. I took one. To be very clear — neither my brother nor I had the maturity to handle being dog owners.  I muddled through, though and — somehow — Keiko lived to eleven.  Her death devastated me, and I swore off dog ownership.

At the time, I had a cattery of Himalayans with two queens — Lady Arabella de Bergerac (father Cyrano, Bella for short) and Lady Jane Eyre Rochester.  My stud was Sir Sinjin Fitzwilliam Darcy.

They were an interesting brood. Again, I wasn’t as responsible as I should have been. That said, many families got wonderful himi babies (including, apparently, one of the Housewives of Vancouver…?).

The queens aged out, I rehomed Sinjin to a lovely retirement, and life continued.

Until a friend posted on FB that her sister had bought a small dog and things weren’t working out.

6 years since Keiko had passed.

I went to my building manager and, she thinking I only had 3 cats, approved my request (I had 4 — long story).  I let my friend know I could take Ally.

Ally had found a home.

I was… I don’t know the right word. Not upset or resigned…determined? I had permission and was ready to open my heart again.  Another friend directed me to Animal Control and Henry.  An older abandoned small dog available for rescue.  I hustled down there — only to find a couple had beat me to it.  My application was warmly received, though.  I had good references, my building manager approved, my cats were good with dogs and, most importantly, I’d had a dog previously.  Henry went to the couple, but the shelter said they’d keep my application.

Two days later, my friend called.  Ally’s rehoming hadn’t worked. Could I take her?

Sure!

Thus began my journey into doggie parenthood again. (The shelter called a couple of days later with a Bichon Frisee and I was sorry to say no – if Henry had worked out, I’m not sure what I would’ve done about Ally…so the universe watching out for me…).

I brought Ally home and went to my friend who had directed me to Henry.  I wanted to be a better dog parent this time. Now in my late 30s, my life was vastly different than my early 20s.

She said, “Get thee to PetSmart and trainer Barb.”

I did.  Four rounds of training later, Ally passed her Tricks class as well as her therapy dog training.  She thrived in the training environment and when I took her out in public, she did really well.  Except she would sometimes hesitate, so we never did the St. John’s Ambulance training to get the provincially-recognized certification.  The certificate I did receive (and the training that went with it), opened doors, though.  We did all right.

Then came COVID.  By then I just had Ally and Bella (Jane had passed and my last two kittens had been rehomed to a sanctuary where they’re living their best lives).  Without Ally being out and in public all the time, she started to withdraw.  Then came the masks, tiny elevators, and many strange people as we wound up moving three times in one year.

When restrictions eased, I started taking her out again, but we never got back to where she was.

Sigh.

Then came a message out of the blue from a good friend: would Ally like a buddy?  Since my friend was going to Africa for a trip, I was assuming she wanted me to dog sit.

Nope.  Her soccer buddy had a nervous dog who needed rehoming urgently. He needed to be with someone who worked from home because he cried all day every day when left alone — he was upset, his owner was upset, the neighbours were upset — just a mess.

My vet friend, whom I trust implicitly, said, “Don’t do it.”  That dogs on meds with behavioral issues were a ton of work.  That I had my job and my writing career — which was essentially a second job.

Then she realized I was going to do it anyway, so she coached me on everything I needed to know.

A few days later, I brought Finnegan home.

Total disaster.  Bella had passed the year before, and Ally had settled into being an only child.  She did NOT want a Finnegan.  For his part, Finnie is a very sensitive boy, and her obvious animosity from Ally hurt his soul.  I thought I’d have to rehome him.

Then something happened.

Ally stopped snarling (well, snarled less).  She wasn’t so…angry.  She gave him some space.

He thrived.

I discovered he could be left alone — because he had her.

And her anxiety over me leaving lessened as well.

Win/win.

One month later, I officially adopted him (well, thanked his previous owner.  That was a sad situation because she’d rescued him with the best of intentions and, in the end, he had three homes in four months).  The owner philosophically said she was Finnie’s steppingstone to his forever home.  Which was so true. If she hadn’t mentioned her dilemma to my friend, and if I hadn’t been working from home, I never would’ve rescued Finnie.

That’s the story.  We haven’t had a snarl in more than a year.  Oh, Finnie turned out to be quite a bit older than I’d been led to believe. Whatever.  So he’s 11, Ally’s now 10 and I never saw myself as rescuing TWO dogs — let alone one as a five-month-old pup and one as a 10-year-old senior.

My plan is to only rescue senior dogs from now on.

But my two are exceptionally healthy.  Both have lost weight in the past two years which was good because both were a little chunky.  The vet is thrilled with their progress.

My vet friend said she’d never been so happy to be wrong.

Finnie fits perfectly.  He was the missing piece we didn’t know we needed.

He’s not perfect — he’s food obsessed, wants to kiss everyone, and is a little excitable (no one believes he’s 11).  Ally’s not perfect either.  She’s territorial, unwelcoming of strangers, and doesn’t like certain people (although once she gets to know you, she’ll love you forever).

And there you have it.  A LONG story.  But I hope a good one.  I’ve never been happier, and they’re living their best lives.

Okay! I’m happy to give away a prize!  I’ll give away a copy of any of my Animal Rescue books – eBook for the three or audio for Love Furever.  Just let me know – have you ever met a rescue animal? Or considered doing it yourself? Pet as a child? Or allergic and unable?  Not everyone has the capacity to have an animal, I get that.  Just share something that touches you.  Maybe a book with an animal where the story stuck with you? Random will pick a winner and if you have all my animal rescue books, I can give you something from my back catalogue.  Good luck!

(Pictures — Ally, Finnie, my friend Kit, and my on Finnie’s official adoption day — he’s black and white while Ally’s tan and white.  The second photo is of them last month letting me know what they think of wearing their coats and of me working all the time…)

Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue: Series Synopsis

Fur babies are family, too! Gaynor Beach, CA, is a welcoming place for gay and bi men to raise their kids, but until now, the Gaynor Beach animal rescue landscape has been a deficient patchwork. One man is determined to change that, to open a rescue for animals in need. But it turns out, it takes a whole village to raise a shelter. And in the process of creating a refuge for furry, scaly, and feathered friends, human hearts may find each other too.

Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue is a shared world gay romance series featuring cute critters in need and the men who care for them.

Love Furever – Gabbi Grey
Impurrfections – Kaje Harper
Iguana You to Want Me – Meredith Spies
Husky Love – Gabbi Grey
Ruff Start – Roan Rosser
Yorkie to My Heart – Gabbi Grey

Links:
Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C3RVSRP6
All 6 books available in other stores: Kobo, Apple Books, Barnes& Noble, Smashwords, Google Play
Add it to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/series/388666-friends-of-gaynor-beach-animal-rescue

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Gabbi Grey lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black and Gabbi Powell.

Personal links:
Website: https://gabbigrey.com/
Newsletter sign-up:  https://sendfox.com/gabbigrey
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorgabbigrey/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/gabbi-grey
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15456297.Gabbi_Grey
Amazon Author Central: https://www.amazon.com/Gabbi-Grey/e/B07SJVFX1M
Audible Profile:  https://www.audible.com/author/Gabbi-Grey/B07SJVFX1M
Facebook (page): https://www.facebook.com/AuthorGabbiGrey

March

Work-related:

1. I didn’t write a single word in all of March. I really didn’t intend to. I had too much on my mind.
2. I completed 5 editing projects for other authors in March!

Health-related:

1. I had an immunotherapy appointment. Such a breeze after chemo!
2. Otherwise, I pushed my health and my stats completely out of my mind. I didn’t need the stress!

Happiness-related: 

1. I attended my art guild’s meeting this month for a Show & Tell of what we’ve all been working on. It was really nice!
2. I painted every day until this last week as part of #the100dayproject. Here are a few small pieces I completed:

April

For work-related, I plan:

1. To complete 1 or 2 editing projects in April, but not beginning them until mid-month to give myself time to recover.

For health-related, I plan:

1. To undergo a radical hysterectomy, plus a couple of other organs on the 1st!
2. To undergo immunotherapy whenever my oncologist says I’m ready for more.
3. To rest and recover!

For happiness-related, I plan: 

1. To spend time with the family while I recover from surgery. I’ll be in the living room in a lift chair for quite a while. I’ll be impossible to ignore. LOL.
2. To continue the #100dayproject when I’m ready.

Contest

Comment on anything you’ve read in this post. Tell me what you’re doing to make yourself happier and healthier, or tell me what you plan to read in April…

Like I said, comment on anything for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

See you later!

I won’t be posting again until I feel well enough to do so. I do have some guests lined up to post while I’m away. Please be sure to stop in and tell them hello and thank them for picking up the slack for me! Until then, I hope you all stay safe and find happiness in all the little things. Love, DD

Report Card

Last week…

1. I worked my butt off on two editing projects I have to complete before my surgery on Tuesday! I’m almost there. I hope to finish both today!
2. I worked on getting caught up on some administrivia to get ready for my upcoming surgery and recovery.
3. I paused the #100daychallenge. I’ll resume the challenge when I’ve recovered enough to want to sit and paint. I’m hoping that will be mid-April, but I might be dreaming.
4. I went flea-market shopping with the girls. It’s a small thing, but something we all love to do. We like finding our random treasures. I found a white enamel covered box, rectangular, and I have no clue how I’ll use it just yet, but I love enamel, so I had to have it. When I’m recovered, I’ll figure out where it “belongs.”

This next week…

1. I will complete two sets of author’s edits today (I hope). One author still owes me her last pages (You know who you are! LOL)!
2. I have more administrative things to do today and tomorrow morning to “get my affairs in order” before surgery.
3. I need to make sure all my passwords still work on my phone and laptop because I won’t be going near my desktop for a month!
4. I have to pay all the monthly bills tomorrow so that won’t be lingering over my head as I recover.
5. Tuesday is the big day! All my girlie parts, plus a few others, are going bye-bye-bye!

Open Contests

Be sure to check out these posts and enter to win the prizes that are still up for grabs:

1. 1. Gabbi Grey: How I figure out what comes next! (FREE Read + Contest) — Last day to enter! Get your FREE read, plus enter to win another FREE story!
   2. Get your FREE read! WITH HIS ROCK BAND! — This offer ends Tuesday! Pick up your FREE read. This is a limited time offer!
   3. Saturday Puzzle-Contest: Welcome Spring! — Win an Amazon gift card!
   4. Anna Taylor Sweringen/Michal Scott: Eliza Potter — Hairdresser, Social Critic, and Myth Buster (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
   5. Word Search: Favorite Book Hero Jobs (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
   6. Tell Me a Story… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
   7. Saturday Puzzle-Contest — Favorite Fast Food — Win an Amazon gift card!

Just a quick note. I’ll go into surgery sometime on Tuesday. I’ll have guests on the blog, but there won’t be daily posts until I feel well enough to sit at my desk, so closing out current contests may lag. Also, I won’t be here to share my guests’ posts. If you can, please share them on your social media to help get out the word for them.  

It’s Saturday, and I have a list a mile long of things to place in my rear window. So, here’s a quick puzzle. The topic came to mind because…I’m hungry. 🙂

Solve the puzzle, then let me know what your favorite fast foods are for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

I have a huge To Do list that I keep trimming because I’m running out of time to do everything I thought I needed to get out of the way before my surgery next Tuesday.

My surgery is scheduled for some time on Tuesday. They’ll call the day before and let me know when. My sister, Elle James, has already volunteered to take me to Little Rock the day before. We’ll hole up in a hotel near the hospital, then she’ll be with me there for the duration of my stay. My lovely daughter will come for the surgery but has to head home afterward because…kids and animals. If all goes well, I’ll be there for two nights, then I’ll be sent home.

She’s having my lift chair moved to the living room while I’m gone because I won’t be able to go up and down stairs for about six weeks. I’ll be “installed” in the living room, which will be annoying for them, but I expect I’ll sleep a lot. I’ll be in the chair because my daughter, who had a hysterectomy years ago, says I won’t be able to comfortably get in and out of bed. She has it all planned out how she’s going to care for me. I hate that I’ll need that kind of help, to and from the bathroom, getting up to walk, etc. I know I’m going to be miserable, and a lot of things will fall by the wayside while I recover. Google says I won’t be able to swim for six weeks, and she just smiles and says I probably won’t feel like it anyway, but I hope to prove her wrong. Full recovery will take about six months.

I’ll be stranded away from my desktop for six weeks. Which means, I’ll be using my laptop, which I don’t love. I’m not sure how that will work. Likely, she’ll have to find some sort of desk/tray thing to place over my chair so I can reach the keys. How soon I’ll be back online is a huge question. I do have some guest authors’ posts to pre-post so this website won’t be completely dead. I’ll ask you all to support them, and me, by sharing their posts online. You won’t mind that, right?

I figure I’ll be back to editing in a couple of weeks—in short spurts. Lots of rest in between. The kids will watch movies with me so I don’t go stir-crazy. I think I’ll like their noise and commotion, the sounds of living, being around me upstairs.

Am I scared? It’s odd. I’m not. I know a million things can go wrong, but hey, I’ve made it this far, and this journey has been surprising. I’ve come farther than I could have hoped at the start last August. I hope I fly through surgery, that I avoid any major infection. The worst I will let myself consider is dealing with the discomfort and pain. I can do that. I already have experienced some of that. I’m feeling positive and making plans for the future. When they put my under, I’ll hold to an image of me floating in my pool with the sunshine beating down on me—my favorite place and activity in the world.