My advisor would send back my disertation with corrections. I would make them and send it back. It always came back with more. I started to notice that a lot of them were the same corrections, he would say to spell it this way, then that way, then the way it was spelled the first time. It was an enless game of ping pong, only the ball was grammar and spelling, or the where comas go. 

I knew that I had to figure out why the game playing. My first move was to go the Ethnographer and ask why. He was triely one of my unsung heros. He had the gift, talent, or skill of observation of the dynamics of the university. He said it was because my research had gone beyond my advisors expertise. He was responsible to judge me but he did not know hwo. So he was stalling. He said I needed to go to the Clinical Psychology department and have them look at it and approve it if it was ok and then have them let him know. I promptly did that and they said it was good and let him know. At last the game came to an end. 

We have to build our future, but we have to know what is happening now if we are going to change things. It never hurts to ask questions and patiently. Once we understand we know what to do, until that time we are all handicapped. If we know what works it is only a matter of follow through. Ignorance is our ONLY handicap, if we know how to get what we need it is only a matter of follow though. 

The next hurrtle would be the meeting of the department, a two or three hour interview in which I have to justify my research, if I pass the degree is awarded. I was waiting for the usual set back.