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Sarah Anne Shockley

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“The majority of people living with chronic pain have the symptoms attributed to conditions that are not fully understood, including Spinal Stenosis, Fibromyalgia, Diabetic Neuropathy, Arthritis, and Restless Leg Syndrome. These diagnoses provide a label allowing the patient to be classified and guiding physicians to treat, but often do not reflect the true cause of symptoms. Using approaches presented in Walking Well Again, both patients and clinicians are guided to recognizing and treating the hidden causes of pain, which often results in relief in just one or two days.”

“There is no special beliefs needed because the subtle energy, is the same energy that makes muscles move. It doesn’t take much thinking to move a finger, but that energy focused for extended periods of time accelerates healing. This sounds simple enough but maintaining focus can be a challenge”

“Shopping Rage, Air Rage, Trolley Rage, Smokers – I Want a Fag Rage, you name it rage. But there’s something mysterious about the transformation that takes place when ordinary folk get behind the wheel of a vehicle. Ordinary mortals are transformed into godlike creatures with mystical powers that help them see through dense fog, help them know that there isn’t any traffic around that blind bend, and can also make them a better driver than anyone else.”

“Route 206 has only two lanes, which makes no sense in this over populated state, but presumably someone in power believes that restricting the road to only two lanes forestalls the advent of a further population explosion. Presumably these same people have not realized that a two-lane system clogs cars, frustrates drivers, and imperils a family of three (Mom, Dad, Ben) driving to a dinner deep in Southern New Jersey. These same people have not seen any logic to expanding a roadway so that a bleary, sweaty, fleshy man, vodka steaming from his pores, angry at the Range Rover sputtering in front of him, angry that the man with the ponytail driving the Range Rover has a Range Rover, angry at himself for not picking up Willy, his eleven-year-old son, from his mother's today because he went to the bar Fredo's instead, angry angry angry - so fuck it, fuck it all, he thought, I'm going to fucking pass this fucking asswipe Range Rover asshole, I don't care who's coming down the other side, I don't care if the President and his fucking Secret Service guys are barreling down this shitty road, fuck it all, I have the bigger car, I don't need a Range Rover, I have this, my TRUCK, my beautiful big motherfucking TRUCK, and goddamn it, what was up with the blond at the bar?”

“Turn right in one hundred feet,” the navigational system’s Scottish voice cut through Claire’s response. “Being interrupted by a Scottish accent sounds more sexy than rude,” she laughed, picturing a kilted Highlander warrior as the man behind the voice. “Very Outlander-ish.” Suggie giggled along. “I agree. It’s impossible to be angry at a sexy, exotic GPS voice telling you where to go. It’s not road rage. It’s road romance.”