Making An Entrance

“Everybody loves you when you're easy. . .Everybody hates when you're a bore. . .Everyone is waiting for your entrance, so don't disappoint them.” ~Sarah McLachlan

In a conversation with an SPS friend, their spouse had developed anxiety issues when out of caring range for my afflicted friend. It had become a comfortable routine for this individual. A future solo trip for my friend triggered some anxiety-induced health issues for the spouse.

The topic of this conversation turned toward Stiff Person Syndrome, the various triggers, the security and comfort of routine. I had been experiencing some increasing anxiety when leaving my home. I had been aware of opting for the serenity and calm of home more frequently than I had in the past. I decided it was time to reinstate more frequent "out there" experiences beyond my new normal routine.

Wanting to visit different churches on occasion, I thought Sunday would be a good time. I could not locate choice #1 so settled for choice #2. Walking well with my surrogate walker aides, I made it to the front door...unscathed.

Unprepared for the step up into the sanctuary, I did a first-in-awhile SPS fall into the foyer. Luckily I was able to catch myself with extended arms instead of the "tin man" fall with full impact on the head.

Worried about a possible tear in my dress jeans, I look up from my on-my-knees vantage to the group gathered in the foyer. Fear, astonishment, and dismay were frozen expressions on all the faces. I smile from my crawl (prayer?) position, smile and tell them I am alright.

Managing to stand, I extend my arms and say, "I had to make an entrance." The humor melted the cold horror into warm welcoming smiles. Looking at the small group in the sanctuary compared to the large number of cars in the parking lot, I ask, "Is this all the people who come here?"

I was informed this was the Hispanic sanctuary and was given a partial escort to the main English sanctuary.

Without event, I take my seat and mentally assess injury. My neck and shoulder muscles were sore, most likely from being rigid during the fall. My knees ached a little but my favorite dress jeans were undamaged.

Relieved, amused, and thankful, I realized...I can fall in other languages!

Copyright © 2012

Risk To Bloom

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." ~Annais Nin

Viciously gutted from my life was physical ability, independence, my identity and sense of worth with the diagnosis of Stiff Person Syndrome. Guilt consumed me at the burden I believed I had become. Damaged. I further erroded my worth by living to please, 'earning' undeserved love. This misguided self-perception was reinforced by relevant others.

Years passed. In the darkness of my silent apathy, a spark of Debbie ignited a few smoldering embers of forgotten self. I mattered. I have feelings. I have a life. Sharing an address is not sharing a life. I reclaimed me from imposed indebtedness. I took the risk to bloom.

I still live as a physical hostage to SPS, but there is such an inner freedom to live as Debbie, 'keeping it real.'

Not quite on my own.

"Nevertheless I am continually with You; You have taken hold of my right hand." ~Psalms 73:23




"The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other's welcome and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was yourself. Give wine, Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life. Whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart."

Copyright © 2012

Rolling Over

When my firstborn made a wobbly surprise tummy to back roll in the crib, I whooped like a pro-football cheerleader. My infant's accomplishment then, my accomplishment now.

Last week I woke one morning, did a slow cat stretch then rolled onto my side for some thought and prayer while waiting for the mood to get up. I do not revisit the beginning syndrome devastation of my body very often. It tends to create future worry for me, unproductive and pointless. But this morning...

I remember how hard it was to get on my side, my body a painful quaking spasmodic mess. Pulling myself up on the headboard post, my neck popped in painful protest, my limited range arm screamed, and I concentrated to slowly get out of bed just to lower myself to the floor to crawl to the bathroom. The urge to stretch would be great, but would trigger full-body spasm to a body 'crack-of-the-whip' jerk.

It was with humbling gratitude I offered a prayer of thanksgiving to God for the simple luxury of a gentle stretch to roll on my side.

And in celebration, my spirit whooped like a pro-football cheerleader.

Copyright © 2012