The Stages of Me: A Journey of Chronic Illness Turned Inside Out

By Kathy Henderson

The Stages Of ME with faith and hope anything is possible. In The Stages Of ME you will experience a journey. I am the author, Kathy Henderson, I felt a spiritual calling to share this journey.
The Stages Of ME, opens the curtain to my stages sharing my faith, as a ministry.
I hope for others to gain the freedom of embracing their stages and life lessons.
Sharing hope that life may throw some curves, but those same curves can lead you home.
Life is a stage and we have an awesome Director!
The stages of ME includes my personal experiences with a debilitating muscle disease, near death occurrences, heart disease in one I love and the loss of loved ones. By sharing my journey I hope it sparks a desire for you to reflect on your stages. The irony of life has brought me full circle. My Director, places a touch, and a whisper of my future as He casts the people in my life. He is always guiding if I am open to Him. This is a journey I did not plan to take. I hope you enjoy the show with me. I hope and wish for you to find your STAGES OF ME!

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 10, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449708634

Kathy Henderson

Kathy Henderson is an award-winning children’s writer, poet and illustrator with more than 30 published books, winner among other things of the Kurt Maschler Award, the Aesop Prize of the American Folklore Society and shortlisted for the Children’s Poetry Prize. With a background in literature, music and oral history she also compiled 'My Song is My Own, 100 women’s songs from the British Isles', which has become the iconic book on the hidden voices of women. She has written for radio, visited hundreds of schools and libraries and been a Fellow of the Royal Literary Fund.

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Contents

Prologue

Stage 1 Enter Me!

Stage 2 Teenage Awakenings

Stage 3 Young Adulthood

Stage 4 College Graduate

Stage 5 A Move Away, A Move Home

Stage 6 I Find My Soul, My Future, My Guy

Stage 7 A Gift from Heaven

Stage 8 The Awareness of the Fight for Our Freedom

Stage 9 I Am Not Fine, But I Am Blessed Once Again

Stage 10 Trouble with One of My Hens

Stage 11 A Friend Goes to Heaven

Stage 12 Please Take This from Me

Stage 13 Why Me? Why Not Me?

Stage 14 Compassion

Stage 15 Around the Bend

Stage 16 Full Circle

My Stages

Prologue

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Come with me on a journey that starts with an imaginary vision, a scene played out, one in which I am just a simple character guided and directed!

I slowly walk from the wings of a darkened theater much like a memory from my past. The scene is familiar, as I had auditioned on a similar stage many years before. This vision takes me back to a time of discovery and youth, a time when all things were possible, and, yes, I was invincible.

This stage is lit by a single light bulb stand placed directly in the center. The light is glowing and yet is foreboding at the same time. I am drawn to it; yet I want to run quickly from the grasp it has on me. I keep walking. Next to the light is an old, rusty folding chair. I hesitantly walk to it and take my seat. I look out to where the audience would be; but it is as black as the night, and I see only a glare of stage light that fades into nothingness.

I search the blackness, my eyes trying desperately to focus. The Director is there; I know it. I can feel His presence! I squint as the glow of the light bulb blocks my vision. My heart is beating fast and my breathing has nearly stopped. I hear him speak quietly. Have you reviewed the pages?

I respond, somewhat timidly, Well, um yes, but I am not really interested in this particular part if that’s okay.

I hear Him say, in a strangely comforting way, Oh come on now, you have been specially chosen for this. I know you can do it! I believe you can draw inspiration from the past.

I sit cowering before Him. He goes on. You’re prepared. It may be a tough show, but with the right touch and a push or two it can be a great piece of work. Trust me.

I admit tears well up in my eyes. My throat is a little tight and I am searching for a rebuttal.

There is none!

Trust me. They seem like such small words, so why am I terrified?

These words have immense power.

There are times when not having all the information keeps us guarded and fearful, and it gets tough. We must learn to let go and truly trust a partner, hoping our vulnerability brings us closer. We must learn to trust children and teens without knowing if they will make the right choices to remain safe. When trusting our leaders, we hope they know what they are doing, even when they are lost themselves. Trusting our friends allows us our own imperfections while accepting theirs. Most important, perhaps, is the ability to trust that our inner strength and faith are enough in the face of adversity— especially when adversity is in our faces!

To lose trust is to stand still in time, too frightened to move forward or go backward; stage fright, so to speak. This immobilizing fear can creep up inside of us and control our performance and actions

The stage is where it all plays out. We need to do our best, trusting the Director and waiting for the reviews.

At times my own life feels like a dream, one I want to wake from, but then I would never learn how it ends. Without our dreams we would be lost, and without our stages there is no show. Often on life’s stages we can feel much like a pawn on a chess board, awaiting the next move and wondering if it is correct or not. Not knowing the outcome can be uncomfortable, but with trust and faith it can be exhilarating and rewarding. I also believe with honesty it will be enlightening. I must allow myself my ignorance and always ask the tough questions of my Director. Most importantly, I must be open to His answers.

This vision is just one fateful day in my life. I imagine myself in this place, on a stage, standing before the Director, being given a role to play regardless of choice. How many times in life must we all face this awkward feeling and realize it is only with the balance of life and true acceptance of the assigned part that we can evolve into another role? How often must we look into the darkness and trust the guidance of our Director?

Nonfiction roles, the ones we see play out in plays and films based on true stories, intrigue us. They originate in the day-to-day lives of real people just like you and me. Fictional roles come from someone deciphering his or her own understanding of this "life stage." In the trueness of a real-life role, there is no special lighting to make it look better. There are no body-doubles, sadly enough, to step in for us when a stunt is too difficult or we do not want to perform a particular scene. It is generally not necessary to find a place deep within that will bring the required tears, for in our own realities, they are close at hand. The emotion is what gives us the challenge to seek the skills and temperance to take us to our next stage, our next role.

My stages are what have brought me thus far. My Director will decide what is best. I am His performer. He will cast me in His scenes, and He will nurture my talents to become a vessel for His production.

My life had come full circle. I was surprised how the paths I had taken and my vast experiences were creating an amazing story. I had been guided in this life by a power of direction through a designed plan. I was awakened by the strength of other people’s wisdom, tragedies, and triumphs. These became the tools I needed along the way. They came in the form of touches—some gentle, some firm, some loving, some scary, some angry, and some even distant. I may not have always used the tools to my advantage, but I had a desire to figure them out. We are often unaware of the touches of others. They can seem so insignificant at the time of their happening, yet if we look back at the sequence we can see how so many are symbolic. They are but pieces of a puzzle that allow us the ability to learn, understand, and grow.

These rough-edged puzzle pieces are there before us, creating a full portrait of a me.

We are all a combination of these things, these touches of others as well as our situational experiences. I was not always pleased with what I saw, and many times I did not want to include them in my portfolio, but they were needed to complete that character of me. I wanted to throw away those that were unfair, hard to deal with, or too overwhelming. And then I looked more closely at each one individually and could not deny that all the pieces were needed to create my next role. Now I had to look at the true picture, accept what was before me, and turn it into a work of art.

These stages of me—created by the touches of others— and these experiences out of my control are what forced me to want to accept this unique part. I have come to realize I have had so many roles, so many hidden opportunities, positive or negative, they have been catalysts for my development. Each has carried a lesson. It is only by experiencing the joy, love, humor, and adversity of the role at hand that my Director can create another in the series of the stages of me.

Okay, am I boring you yet? Please hang in there; I believe you will see yourself in these stages. Given time to explore the stories of others, we often find ourselves.

My career was fascinating, I noticed as I navigated the wake of so many storms experienced by people around me. I felt like a fairy godmother that was able to twirl her wand and offer the hope or things needed in their lives so they could continue on their way to the ball.

The power and joy of being able to help heal is rewarding. As a healthcare professional, I reaped the benefits of these rewards. But I soon would be faced with my own storms and humbled by my own reality.

This time I would have no wand—only a vast history of watching others in crisis and learning from their strength. I would need to see the trueness of my reality or trials within myself. I felt the lack of control and the helplessness, at times even the true despair. I would face the road ahead with trepidation.

Through this time, I again found the wand. It was always there within my reach. It was the grace given by the Director to maintain hope and faith. It was the gift given me along the way by the touches of others. It was the ability to let go and trust fully and without hesitation— to just move forward with guidance to get to that next stage. I am hoping that my journey, which I continue, will help others in the face of their own adversity and accomplishments. I hope that in some way this story will allow the development of their own self- portraits or dynamic roles and the awareness of their stages of me!

Stage 1

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Enter Me!

I am born today,

God breathed spirit into my body.

Mom and Dad take me home

They love me and protect.

I become a part of a whole,

The first piece my childhood.

I have been blessed in so many ways. I had a good childhood and an exciting young adulthood. I now have a beautiful family of my own and had an amazing career as a healthcare professional. I followed the path I thought was so clearly set before me. I must say that I thought I had come to understand my purpose in life. I was on top of the world with my family and my work. I was caring for others wounded by life’s mysterious ride. I had figured out how I was supposed to exist in this world.

And then, in a slow motion sort of way, everything changed!

I need to go back a bit to move forward, to explain where this whirlwind we call life has led me. All the while molding a me from an intertwining of experiences with people, places, and life! The who I am not as important; the how I have arrived at the me is everything!

By no means do I want to bore anyone with the tiny details of my life, but they are needed to know where I started. After all, I plan to open myself up to you, so I need to share a bit about my beginnings.

I was born and raised in a small community in Pennsylvania. Here I became the middle child of five pretty cool people and the daughter of two dynamic parents. You could say that I see parts of my childhood in many of the made-for-TV dramas about families and small communities. Some are fictional and some are real, and yet I can relate to the stories that unfold on the screen.

My family danced the dance of learning about life and incorporating it into a belief system we could understand. We were not perfect, for there is no perfect, but we were collectively aware of each other’s strengths and weaknesses and we had a solidarity that made us a family. This cohesive bond that I learned as a part of a family has enabled me to be open and willing to connect to others in life. That first learning process taught me to accept where people are in life. And although they may be hiding behind a wall or guarding from others, they too have come from a family. This is a root that helps to mold the me they become.

I lived most of my early years in a house on the corner down the street from the local church. I remember wonderful days of playing kick-the-can in the alleyways and catching fireflies in jars, yes with holes punched in the lids. I remember goofing off at a local field one night and the entire neighborhood of kids scurrying as a scary brown bat circled over our heads. Quickly our moment of joyous play turned to sudden fear since the local news station had recently reported that certain types of bats were attacking small children on playgrounds. We were scared, to say the least. Yet as we scurried, I remember feeling safe knowing I could enter any home and I would be protected for that moment in time. As we ran toward the neighbors, the doors readily opened and welcomed us in. We were all in a protective cave of kindness away from the fear that shook us so. Sighs of relief and a childhood snack came quickly to comfort us.

This is a tradition that is tough to come by in today’s times with varying family values, gossip, and assumptions—up go the walls.

Perhaps if our Director scripted our lines as we delve into relationships, then we would be more accepting and forgiving of our differences. Sadly, our world is unscripted. What a wonderful world it would be if we could take things scene by scene. Slow them down and even edit them before continuing. Often things come to mind or actually exit our mouths and instantly we think, I wish that had not just happened! Almost immediately we are trying to figure a way to redirect the scene, yet we are lost and untrained.

Sadly, we do not always look to our Director in these times of confusion. We rely on instinct, and at times it serves us well. But other times it may cause significant damage. This result truly depends on the previous scenes or prejudices played out before us.

We are all truly victims and/or victors based on the reels of the previous scenes we have witnessed in our minds.

I have come to realize this is why we all love the well-produced movie or play. It has been scripted and edited. We will all make these mistakes of unedited scenes. I suppose the question is this: Will we continue to acknowledge that only the Director can truly give us the confidence and forgiveness to start fresh with a new scene? Will we then share that confidence and forgiveness with others? Will we admit to our unedited mistake and own it? Because it is those very faults that make us human. I for one am very human!

I would like to rewind for a moment to some scenes from my childhood. These are some of the reels that are part of my makeup, part of my me!

Our home was an old brick colonial previously owned by a family that brewed beer at one time. The home had an antique kind of atmosphere, old and curious. During the days of my childhood I felt like I lived in a mansion. The attic had a series of doors with cubbyholes, enough for each kid in the family to have a fort of his or her own. It was an awesome place to grow up and play hide-and-seek. The basement resembled an old-fashioned tavern with high-backed black benches where carved lion heads rested near the top. As a child these could cause great distress rather than inspire appreciation for their clear artistry.

We had an original bar that was similar to one seen in the taverns of old black-and-white movies. It had an antique mirror in the center, a couple of taps, and stools carved from wood. Our house was known for having soda on tap. A root or birch beer was readily at hand for a childhood party. We would mosey up to the bar and act like we were in the Wild West.

Sitting on those old-fashioned, carved wooden stools, we were in our own make-believe world and life was good.

This house I grew up in was a rather large freestanding single family home that sat proudly on a corner lot, at the end of a series of brick row homes. Each of these row homes had its own individual characteristics. Our community was tied together with culture, traditions, and a melting pot of families from varying nationalities. The town was small enough to know just about everyone and yet large enough for another world to exist. In our own tiny corner of the world little else existed. Each holiday was proudly announced with its seasonal decorations and the gleeful chatter of many children was always present.

In this small community the surface was picturesque and the television news was not aggressive at pulling back the blinds to see the possible evil that may or may not live within. Parents felt free to allow their children to explore the sheltered world at their fingertips. Neighbors had a watchful eye and would share in a gentle way if things were appearing too mature on the local streets.

Today people are more likely to close their eyes out of fear. They are unwilling to get involved or take a risk. Many times we all make assumptions without truly knowing the stories behind the frosted glass of the windows. Often we may see beyond the blinds, but the blatant news of chaos has slithered its evil ways into our cities and even our rural communities. We turn away so as to not get caught in the grasp of inhuman possibilities. When we do reach out, many times it takes a tiny mistake or happening to put us on guard so we retreat for protection. We return