An Unfinished Work…

I have been down this road before… many a times, actually. I like to think that God has a “flare for the dramatic,” and as cliché as that sounds, it is the honest truth behind this thought. I have been the girl to hit rock bottom and then, through trial and tribulation, found myself looking down, years later, from a breathtaking view upon a mountain top… I have been the poster child and I have been the instigator, and each time I have been surprised by what God “really” had in store for me—and then I became a true believer in the verse, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps,” (Proverbs 16:9)


* * * *

My journey towards teaching had been long and grueling. In my last year at college (The University of Missouri-Columbia, aka “Mizzou”), I discovered my true passion. Unfortunately, it was in something other than my major of Communications/Marketing/Management. I had accepted a job as a substitute teacher for Columbia Public Schools while I attended Mizzou and, consequentially, discovered that I had an unmistakable enthusiasm for students and learning. Even though I had spent four years working to become the next-big Advertising Executive, I began looking more forward to the days I spent in the classroom than the internships I held at the Columbia radio station or hours I spent preparing for Marketing pitches.

After I graduated from Mizzou, due to my ability to flexibly work with a multitude of teachers and students, I was offered a Teacher’s Assistant position with the CPS in a Summer School Special Education classroom. Once summer school ended, I, regrettably, moved back to St. Louis; however, within months from graduation I moved back in with my parents, signed up for Teacher’s Education classes at The University of Missouri-Saint Louis (aka “UMSL”) and began the journey towards my God-given destiny: Special Education.

When I started taking classes at UMSL, I was told that I could earn a Teaching Certification for Special Education in a little over a year. However, as I completed each course, I suddenly realized that the Program Completion list grew longer and longer. I talked to the Dean of Education regarding the matter and learned that, even though I had started my Program before UMSL had made its changes to the Certification Syllabus, I was not grand-fathered into my pre-existing commitment. I learned that I a year-long internship had been added to the Program. Despite its deterrence, I agreed to continue with my Plan. As I dove deeper into the Program, I also discovered that if I agreed to take two additional classes over the summer, I would earn a second Bachelor’s Degree. Being that I never did anything half-way, I stayed with the Program; I completed all of the courses, I earned straight A’s and I decided that the second Degree, along with a second Teaching Certification (one in Special Education and another in Elementary Education) was my new mission.

During the first two years that I spent at UMSL, I worked full-time at a bank while taking full-time classes at night. However, as I entered the final year of my teaching degree, I was one of the few, fortunate college students who was hired by a school district and could spend all of those “required” Student-Teaching hours in the classroom, earning a paycheck while earning my degree. I was a teacher’s assistant at a Ferguson-Florissant elementary school and I could whole-heartedly say that I loved my job! Nonetheless, as I finished my final projects, completed my portfolio and waited patiently for graduation, I began the quest for a “real” teaching position.

During the last month of the school year, my supervising teacher, Christy, became engaged—to a man who lived in Ohio. She informed me that she would not be returning to school the following year and that she had already discussed the situation with her superior. She then told me that the (teaching) position was mine if I were interested. “Yes!” I exclaimed. Unfortunately, almost as soon as the words escaped my lips she decided to stay in St. Louis for the year leading up to her wedding; hence, she would be keeping her job. I could; however, remain her assistant for an additional year, then accept her position the following school year.

During that same month, I incidentally had to have surgery on my foot for an injury that I endured while running. I began to weigh my options:

I could keep my job as an assistant and continue to have health insurance as I healed from the surgery...

I could find a teaching job within Special School District (SSD) and my insurance benefits would transfer with me...

Or, I could apply for a teaching position outside of the district and go without insurance for 90 days…

I kept all options open and prayed that God would lead me to my fate.

Weeks passed, then months, and before long I had been on several interviews but I had not accepted nor received any “worthwhile” teaching positions. I was panicked! Summer was coming to an end and Christy wanted to know my intentions for the upcoming school year. Having worked for the district for several years, she knew that it was very likely I would receive a job offer after the school year began—which would leave her without an assistant. A highly-qualified candidate (who had a Master’s Degree in teaching) was interested in my assistant-position, yet was not eligible until I resigned, and would not be available if I waited to resign after the school year started because she was also wanted at several schools. It was quickly becoming decision-time, yet I did not have a solution—or even a compromise for the situation!

I had been in contact with the Human Resources department for SSD and explained my case to the Director of HR. She advised me to keep my assistant position—for the health insurance—and to quit when they could match me with an appropriate teaching position, even if that meant quitting my job as an assistant after the school year began. She did not seem to care that I would be leaving Christy – the woman who taught me everything she new about teaching, sacrificed personal time to help me with my college assignments and mentored me throughout the entire past year – in a compromised position if I committed to a year as her assistant, knowing that I would leave as soon as I found my “bigger and better” teaching job.

On Tuesday, I was informed that I had to make my decision by Friday. On Friday I hand-delivered my letter of resignation to the HR Director. Without opening the envelope, she said, “Stephanie, I cannot believe that you made this decision.” I remained silent. “Do you have a minute?” She asked me. “Yes,” I said. “Can you wait out in the hall while I make a phone call?” I nodded. As I sat on the uncomfortable chair just outside her office I had no idea what this woman was thinking. “Stephanie, you can come in,” she called to me from behind her desk. “I called an Area Coordinator in the Webster Groves School District and left her a message to call you for an interview. Hopefully she hasn’t filled the position.” I thanked her for making the phone call and began to make my exit when the director of Human Resources said to me, “And Stephanie,” I turned to face her, “I really admire your decision.”

I then knew that my career was out of my hands, so I graciously handed it over to God. “Lord, you put this passion for teaching inside of me. You inspired and willed me to go back to college for another three years—earning two Teaching Certifications and even working at the Ferguson-Florissant Elementary school. I know that this is Your Will, and I know that You will not leave anything un-finished that You have started. God, I give this entire situation to you….”

The next morning, on a Saturday, I received a phone call from the Webster Groves Area Coordinator. “Can you come in for an interview on Monday?” she asked me. “Yes,” I said immediately, not even asking when or where the interview was to be held.

After the interview, I could not contain myself; I wanted the position so badly! Bristol Elementary School needed a Special Education Resource Teacher. I knew that Webster Groves was a coveted school district for one to be employed. I also knew that a Resource Teacher position was one in which a teacher usually had to “due her time” in other, more “challenging” classrooms to earn. I also knew that the odds were against me, being a first-year teacher far from the South County area. However, my car had not yet reached the highway after leaving Bristol when the Area Coordinator called my cell phone and asked me if I would accept the position. “Yes!” I practically screamed into the phone.

Two days later, God blessed me with a second phone call—this one from the HR Director. “Stephanie, I am shredding your letter of resignation. Since you accepted the Resource Teaching position I am going to put you into the system as a transfer,” she paused as I began realizing what she was saying, “This means that you do not lose any insurance benefits.”

I knew that God had honored my decision to stand up for what is right for ALL, not just myself; and, because of that, He had not only delivered me my dream job, He had provided care for my body as it continued to heal from foot surgery.

* * * *

I began my first degree of study at the University of Missouri-Columbia (MU) in 1998. In 2002, I graduated with a BA in Communications – Marketing, Management and Public Relations. I studied everything from gender differences in Communications to advertising and business management. As much as I loved the field of Communications, the Lord had a different plan for me.

During my senior year at MU, I was presented with an opportunity to be a substitute teacher for Columbia Public Schools. From the first day I stepped foot into a classroom, God spoke to my heart and told me, “This is where you belong.” Even though I knew that my destiny would quickly change, I finished my degree at MU. Six months after graduation, I began my pursuit to become a teacher at the University of Missouri-St. Louis.

While in Columbia, I was introduced to Special Education. At first, I refused to accept any positions in a Special Education classroom. I said “no” out of fear. However, God quickly reminded me that I have nothing to fear in Him; then He made it impossible for me to refuse any longer. After my first day in a Special Education classroom, I knew that God gave me the heart to serve children with disabilities.

I received a Bachelor’s Degree in Special Education in 2006 (along with certification in both Special Education grades K-12 and General Education grades 1-6th). God honored my faithfulness to return to school by blessing me with a position within Special School District as a Resource Teacher in one of the top 10 districts in St. Louis, where I have been working ever since.


* * * *

I was living my dream... However, after this past Spring Break, the Break that ended up turning into a nightmare instead of a vacation, my doctors decided that I needed to take some time off of work. Because my Intermittent, Short-Term Disability is due to run out at the end of May, the Human Resource’s Department advised me to pursue Long Term Disability. When I first had this discussion, rather, when I first asked my doctor if I should look into LTD, without blinking her eyes, she said, “Yes.” However, I could not accept her answer that easily. Gage and I made an appointment with his family’s Primary Care Physician. After reviewing my medical records and personal history, he, too, without hesitation told me to apply for LTD. As if those two confirmations were not enough, I went on to ask my Physical Therapist and my Pain Management Specialist their opinions. “Yes” and “Yes” they said. A week later, Gage and I began the paperwork for approval for Long Term Disability.

I have learned that LTD takes around 45 business days to finalize its approval. Because I had started the process during the last week of March, I was hoping that I could be one of the “lucky ones” to learn of my approval sooner; however, after a phone call to the company last week, and learning that I had weeks of waiting, I decided to call my Human Resources Department again. Because they had already been helping me complete paperwork for Short-Term Disability throughout this entire year, they were eager to help me with the LTD process. The only problem was; however, that I could not officially receive a Leave-of-Absence from SSD until July, 30 days before the start of the school year. This upset me, because I wanted to display the courtesy to my colleagues, my Team and my friends that there is a great likelihood that I will not return to my teaching position for this next school year.

Finally, this week, I informed my school building that I am awaiting approval for LTD and will, realistically, not return in the Fall.

* * * *

I admit, this change-of-events has definitely shaken me; for I thought that when God called me to be a Teacher, He meant for me to do this for the rest of my life… However, I am reminded that He has not failed me; God did not let me pacify my life with a passion-less career; He did not let me mollify my marriage with a mediocre husband; He will not disable my body without a hope and a way for healing… I just pray that this “break” – this Long Term Disability – is His Way towards my miracle…

The Checklist

Every girl has her checklists…

What do I want to do before I turn 30? (I mean… 40?)
What do I want in a husband?
What do I need to have the perfect home?
What do I need from the grocery store today?

Some checklists are thrown out the window the minute the bags are in the back of the trunk; others are coveted Rules for Life.

Before I had met Gage, I had created my very own Husband Checklist. I had kissed enough frogs to know what I did NOT want in a “Mister” and could come up with quite a catalog of must-haves before I would ever become a “Misses.” Most importantly, I knew that I would not marry a man unless he was a Christian. I believed in the Bible – and I did not want to live a life where I was “unequally yoked” with a man (2 Corinthians 6:14). Marrying a believer was a Non-Negotiable on my register; however, as the saying goes, “We plan, God laughs,” (unknown).

I met Gage in October of 2007 – about two years after I finalized my List. We both lived in the same apartment complex and, before I knew it, I suddenly had a new work-out buddy. Gage’s apartment was directly across the street from the gym/laundry-mat where we first met. There I was, peddling away on the stationary bike, “sweatpants and no make-up on” (Drake) when a young-looking man with bright blue eyes, baggy clothes and a side-tilted hat started a conversation with me about the book in my hands. That day, I learned that Gage was a teacher, also loved to read and lived only a few buildings down from where I lived.

For months, it so “happened” that every time I went to the gym, Gage was there a few minutes afterwards. We’d banter back and forth – he even taught me how to use a few of the machines, but he NEVER asked me out. After a while, I stopped wondering “when” Gage would ask me out; then after a little while longer, I stopped asking “why” Gage wasn’t asking me out. Gage became just a “guy” at the gym and soon he stopped filling my mind with questions all together.

The following June, I, again, was at the gym when Gage walked through the doors. He walked straight up to me and we began chatting. The small-talk ran thin and I excused myself to go into the laundry room. I was leaving the next day for a trip to the beach and I had a lot of clothes to wash and bags to pack. After switching a load of laundry, I returned to the (connected) gym. As soon as Gage saw me, he ran over and started talking to me again. As before, the conversation died and I made my way back to the laundry room to finish for the day. While folding my whites, Gage, unexpectedly, appeared.

“I meant to ask you,” he began and I suddenly realized that he was nervous, “have you read any good books lately?” His question seemed random, yet I answered anyways. “Actually, no,” I said, “I am leaving tomorrow to go on vacation and I don’t have a good book to read. Do you have any recommendations?” Gage’s face fell and I couldn’t understand the change in his demeanor; yet he responded with a list of his favorite authors and titles anyways. He was quiet for several seconds before he finally asked, “Are you going on vacation by yourself?” (What girl goes on vacation alone?)

“No,” I responded, “I am going with about twenty members of my family.” Gage’s face lit up like a Christmas Tree. “I have a book you can borrow!” he exclaimed. Gage asked if I’d mind waiting while he (literally) ran to his apartment to retrieve the book. He appeared two minutes later and handed me a paperback. I thanked him and asked Gage how I could get a hold of him to return the book once I was finished reading it.

“I’m actually moving this week,” Gage said. “Really?” I asked, confused and surprised, “Where are you going?” “I bought a house in Kirkwood,” he explained. I learned that he wasn’t just moving “this week” – Gage was moving the very next day.

I hesitated, “Um… So how would you like to get your book back?” I asked. Gage’s face turned red and he looked down at his feet. “I, uh,” he began, “I think that my card is in the book.” He directed me.

I laughed, “Oh really…” I teased, “Why would it be there?” I could not help but confront his attempt at slyness. “I must have used it as a bookmark when I last read it,” he stammered as he explained the card.” I flipped through the book.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see it,” I said. Gage took the book from my hands and flipped the page open directly to his card. “Here it is,” he said, then blushed. I couldn’t help but laugh. Was he finally flirting with me after all this time?

“Okay…” I said, “I’ll get a hold of you when I finish the book.” “That would be great!” he beamed, “We could have a Book Talk.” A book talk – what is with this guy?

When I returned from my vacation about two weeks later, finished book in bag, I found Gage’s card and emailed him (I don’t call guys). He emailed me back and asked me if I was still interested in meeting up for a Book-Talk. I agreed, assuming that if Gage wanted to go on a date with me, he would ask me on a date. Instead, he asked me on a Book-Talk…

Over pizza and lemonade, I handed the book back to Gage and he quickly tucked it away; we didn’t discuss the book throughout the entire dinner. He did, however, ask me what I was doing to fill my summer days, being a teacher and not having to work. I explained to Gage that I was asked by my pastor to lead a Women’s Group at my church. It was the first group I had ever led at a church, and so I spent several hours each week preparing the material and then I met with the group once each week. Gage was extremely interested in not only the group that I led, but my church as well. However, I learned that Gage did not attend church and was not a Christian.

After the plates were cleared and the left-overs were boxed, Gage walked me to my car. “You should call me and we can do this again some time,” he said. Being coy, I responded, “I don’t have your phone number.” “Yes you do,” he retorted, “It’s on the card I gave you.” “Oh, I thought that was your bookmark!” I teased, “The card is still in the book. I didn’t want you to loose your page.” I winked. Gage laughed and shook his head, knowing that I was calling his bluff. He opened the book, retrieved the card and handed it to me. “Will you call me sometime?” he asked. “No,” I said. “But, you can call me.” That was our first Non-Date. A week later, he picked me up for our first Official Date.

Gage and I dated for weeks, and with each date, I discovered that he met more and more of the criteria for my Checklist. He was handsome; he was educated; he was a gentleman; he was funny; he treated me as a princess; he was wonderful; however, I couldn’t change the fact that Gage was not a Christian. After dating casually for a little over one month, Gage brought up my Church with great curiosity. “Would you like to go with me sometime?” I asked. “Yes!” he responded, “Can I go tomorrow?” Every Saturday evening or Sunday morning that followed, Gage accompanied me to church; however, he still was not a Christian… and I still refused to get into a serious relationship with him because of that.

After attending Church with me for almost a month, Gage and I met a young couple who sat behind us one Saturday evening. To this day, neither Gage nor I remember their names, nor did we see them again; however, I believe that they changed our lives.

We met this duo during the meet-and-greet at the beginning of the service. At end, as we politely said our good-byes to the young man and his girlfriend, she handed Gage a piece of paper. “God spoke to me about you today and I wanted you to have this,” she said.

The note to Gage read:

Gage, God is going to move through you like no other because of your heart. Don’t ever give up on your vision. The Lord is giving you the heart of David, “the man after God’s own heart,” (Psalm 27:4). The Lord wants to give you this heart, to make you a man of “one thing.”

On the other side of the paper, she wrote:

Stephanie, the Lord is going to make you an Elizabeth, bringing forth a promised thing that others thought impossible. His promises to you are true and will happen, even if they seem delayed (Luke 1).
Remember when God healed your wounds and your heart? He is going to use that healed body of yours and you will impact many.

Gage did not know how to respond to the Prophesy; however, he wanted to live up to everything written on that paper. He just didn’t know how…

Two weeks later, Gage asked me if I would be “his girlfriend.” Everything in my heart told me to say “Yes!” to Gage, but I hesitated. I had not been in a serious relationship with a man for over a year, because I was waiting for The One – the guy who met all of my criteria – and I had told myself (prior to Gage), that I would rather be single for the rest of my life than to “settle’ for someone who did not meet all of the Non-Negotiables on my Checklist. However, when I was with Gage, I felt peace on my heart. I felt that God was moving in both my life and in Gage’s. Finally, I told Gage, “Yes, I will be your girlfriend,” with not only the faith that God would protect my heart, but that Gage would as well.

Another two weeks passed and, while at a special service at Church, Gage gave himself to God and became a Christian. When Gage did this, he did not know about my Checklist; he did not know about my hesitancy to give him my heart; he did not know that the one thing keeping me from getting to close to him was my closeness and promises to God – but God knew these things.

A year and a half later, on our wedding day, my sister stood by my side as my matron-of-honor and gave this toast:

The Toast
Given by Bonnie Rowan

On behalf of Stephanie & Gage, I just want to thank you for coming tonight. For anyone who does not know me, I am Stephanie's younger sister, Bonnie. Now, I may be the younger sister but I didn't always act like it. I've been known to be very protective towards Steph & her past boyfriends. I was known for giving the third-degree & the evil eye quite a bit. I realized early into Steph & Gage's relationship that I never acted this way towards Gage. At first, I thought maybe it was because I was "growing up" & shouldn't act that way. But then I realized that I didn't need to act that way with Gage. I trusted Gage from the moment I met him. I knew he had my sister's best interest at heart & I no longer had to "look out" for my Big Sis. When I realized this, I called Stephanie & I told her, "Steph! I know why you & Gage are meant for each other, but I am not going to tell you yet." Of course, Stephanie tried to get it out of me, so I told her I would save it for their wedding day…

So this is it Steph! I knew Gage's heart was in the right place from day one; so now he can do the honor of being the person to protect you, since I don’t have to do it anymore.

But, that’s not it! Through the years, Stephanie acquired quite a list of qualities her future husband needed. She would tell me things off the list from time to time & I would think in the back of my head, “You’re being too picky; you will never find a guy to fit all of your wishes. Get real Steph!” Well, Gage, I was wrong. You do things for my sister that far exceed her wish list. I just want to thank you for being her Prince Charming. You are everything she has ever wanted in a husband and more.

Watching you guys over the past two years, I’ve seen how you bring out the best in each other. You put the other person’s needs first & you make each other very happy. I am honored to call Gage my brother-in-law & I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.

Earlier this week, Gage and I found the piece of paper that the Mystery Couple gave to us that one random night at church…

The ironic thing about that paper is that I forgot that there was a message written to ME – all I remembered was that a young woman handed Gage a piece of paper that, to me, was one of the first steps that led Gage towards God… and then towards the aisle that led him to being my husband.

When I re-read the special words that were specifically to me, my eyes filled with tears. That note was written almost three years ago! How did she know that my body would face such challenges? How did she know that one day, I would need to be healed? How did she know that there would be desires upon my heart that, to some (including myself) often seem impossible and entirely out of reach?

The past few weeks have been extremely difficult on my body. Since Spring Break, each day that I drove to work, tears streamed down my cheeks because of the intense pain that I was already feeling at seven o’clock in the morning. I realized that I had physically and finally reached my ultimate limit; the only things getting me through the day were: the people at work who were lending me their strength, my husband who prayed over me every morning on my drive to the school, the physical therapist who kneaded the knots out of my body every afternoon after work and the countdown to Summer Break.

I admit, I have a hidden Checklist of all of the things I want to do once my body is healed. Among it, I want to have lots and lots of babies; I want to take care of my husband the way he has taken care of me these past two years; I want to twirl my niece in the air and give my nephews a piggy-back ride; I want to walk my dog; I want to run and run and run…

For now, I wait… Just as I waited for God to bring me my husband, I wait for God to bring me my healing… And, just as the Mystery Woman wrote,

Stephanie, the Lord is going to make you an Elizabeth, bringing forth a promised thing that others thought impossible. His promises to you are true and will happen, even if they seem delayed (Luke 1).
Remember when God healed your wounds and your heart? He is going to use that healed body of yours and you will impact many.

I wait to be the living example that not only do good things come to those who wait, but if I “wait on the Lord and be of good courage, He will strengthen my heart,” (Psalm 27:14).

Please pray with me that I can make it until Summer Break and that God will grant me my healing…

You Can't Take a Break from Pain

Spring Break…. Ah…. The perks of being a teacher!

On the first official day of my Spring Break (last Saturday), I was well enough to go to a Trivia Night honoring one of my dearest friend’s, Danielle, brother who is undergoing treatment for cancer. Even though the reason for the event was dismal, Danielle’s brother is doing very well and the event was a FUN fundraiser that raised Danielle’s family a lot of money to use towards medical expenses and her brother’s healing.

This was actually the first night OUT of the house for something other than a holiday or family event for Gage and I to attend with a group of people since before I had my surgery last JUNE. That in itself was a BIG deal and I was walking on air! I was so excited to get out of the house, to mingle, to laugh, to play…

The evening went very well! Danielle and her mother brought in a special chair (with a full back and arm rests) to support my back, they arranged our table to be near a wall as to protect me from people bumping into my chair, and they made sure we were close enough to all of the activities so I that wouldn’t have to do much walking. With all of the special treatment, I almost felt as if the event were held just for me!

The next day, Gage and I had a well-deserved lazy morning, followed by a peaceful afternoon taking a drive down River Des Peres; we listened to a new cd in which we had bought and sung like crazy teenagers at the top of our lungs. That evening, Gage grilled in the backyard while I chatted with him from the back porch. Life was good…

THEN REALITY SET IN: I started my Monday morning with an appointment to see Dr. C., my Pain Management Specialist. The Medical Team and I agreed that I needed a real BREAK, so instead of attending the FOUR appointments that were originally scheduled during my Spring Break, they decided that I would see Dr. C one time for pain management and that my lovely husband would be my personal physical therapist every night to help me through the rest of the week.

I arrived at the office with my list of questions for Dr. C and he helped me through each and every one. Thankfully, it was decided that since Dr. C works within my Medical Team, he should take over ALL of my medications (rather than still have me consult with The Surgeon and my previous Pain Management Specialist whose new office is an hour away). In doing so, Dr. C narrowed the list from SEVEN prescriptions to only three. Thinking outside-the-box (as this Team so often does), Dr. C also explained the benefits of trying a pain-reliever patch (as opposed to taking multiple short-acting pills throughout the day). He also agreed with Dr. Julie and prescribed me a sleeping pill. Lastly, Dr. Julie helped me find a supplement called 5-HTP (that I could buy at any Health Store) to address my low levels of Serotonin and Dr. C gave me a cortisone shot to help the inflammation in my hip (the source of the Nighttime Pain Monster).

THE SHOT HEARD AROUND SOUTH CITY – DAY ONE: When I first left Dr. C’s office, I felt relieved. We had a plan for my medications. We had an attack on the sleep-burglar, a supplement for my serotonin and a shot for my horrific hip…

I went straight to the pharmacy to drop off the new scripts, then tried running to the nearby Target to pick up a few items for my beloved. I had barely made it to the revolving doors before noticing that the more pressure I placed on my left leg, the more pain I felt. Knowing that cortisone shots can often have painful side-effects, I was not surprised by the discomfort. The last time I had received a cortisone shot, I felt as if someone had punched me in my back from the inside out and I was just waiting for the purple-green bruises to surface. This time; however, within fifteen minutes I felt that same pain times fifty-thousand.

I was home within the thirty minutes and by the time Gage came home three hours later I could not even walk from the couch to the door five feet away to greet him. As the hours passed, the pain intensified. Soon, I could not even move my leg on my own, let alone move around the house.

I contacted Dr. Julie in a panic. She explained that, unfortunately, what I was experiencing what was commonly called a steroid flush. This type of reaction to the cortisone is very painful and lasts, on average, 72 hours. When I found this out, I was in Hour 20. Fifty-Two more to go…

Gage and I decided that, due to my condition, I could not be left alone, so he took Tuesday off of work to stay home with me. On Monday evening, the pain had gotten so bad I could not even move my left foot without either crying or screaming. Gage did everything that he could to make me as comfortable as possible, but even that wasn’t enough. Finally, I took my new-prescription sleeping pill and went to bed praying for a better day.

DAY TWO: Thankfully, Tuesday morning, I awoke able to move my leg; however, I was still unable to walk without assistance. Another “Thankfully” – my husband was by my side.

My hip improved as the hours passed (as promised); however, the pain was still extreme. Around three in the afternoon, the pharmacy called to tell me that my pain-patch was ready for pick up. Dr. C explained that, because I have chronic pain (aka: pain that NEVER stops), the patch may be my best option; the directions were to wear it for seven days, and replace it four times each month. Dr. C directed me that the patch “should” take 12 hours to get into my system. Lucky for me, I felt its effects within two hours. Unfortunately, however, I reacted to the patch as I did to every new medication – SEVERLY.

The purpose of the patch is to release pain-managing medication every hour into my body. The common side effects included: headache, nausea, dizziness/light-headedness, drowsiness, etc. Unfortunately, I endured ALL of them – at the same time. The patch also came with the traditional warning NOT to drive a car or operate heavy machinery until I knew how I would react to the medication. Thank goodness I waited to see my reaction before getting behind our tractor, because, as my Spring Break preceded me, the day that had started to get better with a decrease in my hip-pain suddenly spiraled out of control again.

For hours, Gage helped me battle the side-effects of the patch. I was instructed NOT to take the patch off; rather, to let my body get used to the medication as it was intended. With a wash-cloth on my forehead, Sprite being the only thing I was able to get down my throat, a bucket in my lap (not for popcorn), and manic bouts of hysterical laughter and simultaneous heart-breaking, frightened tears, I managed through the night.

DAY THREE/TODAY: I awoke feeling a thousand times better, yet still healing and still adapting. Even after taking my new sleeping pill the night before, I got up when Gage did for work at 6:30 am. My biggest battle became my throbbing headache. I was able to walk, but not for long distances (as in from the couch to the kitchen), so to avoid the walking, I avoided drinking and eating until Gage got home from work (he had taken a half-day to help care for me).

AND NOW… As the day now turns into the evening, I can walk the distance of my house without assistance, I can move my left leg independently, my appetite is returning, the hysterics have vanished and my overall pain is being managed mostly by the patch that Gage practically had to tie my hands behind my back last night to keep me from ripping it off of my body…

I pray that as my Spring Break closes in on its mid-way point, I can be blessed with at least a few days of fun – or at least a few pain-free moments. Please pray this for me, too.

Chronic Pain - The Prognosis

THE PROGNOSIS: As the first two weeks of these symptoms crept by, I let my Medical Team know of my concerns. During that time, I had been seeing Nancy two times each week and her latest suggestion was to have Gage come in to the office (again) to learn more PT that he could do with me at home to help manage the pain on days when I did not have appointments. (This blessing would potentially decrease likely pain build-up, as well as save us the $30.00 co-pay for each visit!)

Gage was gracious enough to come with me – even though he was already on his Spring Break at that time and also desperately needed a “break” himself. The session went very well! Nancy is an amazing teacher and Gage is a fast learner, so we left there feeling confident – we still feel confident in fact – however, the pain still shows its ugly face every hour of every day…

Because I was primarily seeing Nancy for PT during those weeks, Dr. Julie was kind enough to contact me through her personal email account so that she was more accessible. I explained to Dr. Julie my problems with both sleeping and eating and let her know that I was at my absolute point of desperation. Dr. Julie began by explaining the correlation between chronic pain and sleep. She said, “Nancy and I did talk and you need to talk with Dr. C (my new Pain Management Specialist who is also in their office) about your sleep issues. Pain and sleep have a reciprocal relationship. That is, when you have increased frequency and intensity during the day, you will have poorer quality sleep that night and poor quality sleep can lead to increased pain during the day.”

Dr. Julie went on to tell me that she also thinks I have a depletion of serotonin due to my chronic pain. She explained that, “Often, early morning wakings can indicate decreased serotonin levels. Since serotonin is the neurotransmitter used by the internal pain management system AND the emotional brain, it can get mightily depleted in a person with chronic pain.” Furthermore, she stated that low serotonin levels also greatly affect a person’s appetite.

Official Prognoses: Hello, my name is Stephanie Dodson. I have Chronic Pain Disorder. I am sleep deprived. My serotonin levels and appetite are compromised. And, even though I have a brilliant group of medical professionals who are working around-the-clock to help me, I still do not know the absolute root of my pain; therefore, its treatment continues to be a guessing game...

IN OTHER NEWS - I GRADUATED! The good news was that Mark had decided that I “graduated” from Biofeedback Therapy. First, he established that I had the breathing, visualization, self-monitoring and relaxation techniques so well-practiced that I no longer required weekly sessions with him for those purposes. Then, he reaffirmed that Biofeedback Therapy, while productive in regards to any pain, is truly most beneficial when there are not “mechanical” issues that are deterring true treatment advances. Because I have a long list of non-treated mechanical issues, Mark felt it best for me to keep him as part of my Medical Team (seeing him every 4-6 weeks to check-in) and to focus on the physical aspect of my pain. Yes, Ladies and Gents, I am not crazy, I am not clinically depressed, and the pain is not psychological (as indicated to me once by The Surgeon) – I am a bonafide chronic pain patient with a “complicated and complex” case.

Chronic Pain - The Symptoms

My last several blogs have been (I’ll admit it) “sappy” ways for me to get out my own personal grief, as well as to show gratitude for those who have helped me this far along my journey. However, this entry will be an informative one, for if I’ve ever needed my Prayer Warriors, it’s now…

About three weeks ago, I began suffering severe side-effects of my condition. Officially, my new label has become a Chronic Pain Patient (also known as Stephanie Dodson). According to Pain Care Centers, “Chronic pain syndrome (CPS) is a term used to define patients with severe persistent pain from virtually any source which has resulted in marked changes in behavior, self-imposed restriction of daily activities, and heavy, largely ineffective use of the healthcare system. CPS overwhelms all other medical symptoms to the point of becoming the problem itself. It is often accompanied by bouts of irritability, uncontrolled anger, and depression,” (PainCare Centers, Inc., 2011). Additionally, “CPS has no specific cause but rather is the cumulative result of a combination of conditions including the one(s) causing pain. CPS is not fictitious or psychogenic pain but rather the body's psycho-physiologic response to chronic pain… CPS is managed best with a multidisciplinary approach as alluded to above; helping the patient return to a more normal life and accommodating to chronic pain. A lifelong program of graded exercise is a vital component of treatment management,” (2011).

Side Effects & Symptoms of Chronic Pain:

SLEEP DEPREVATION: The first symptom that caused me to worry (besides the never-ending pain in my body) was that I recently developed problems sleeping. Nightly (for the last two years), prior to bed and according to doctor’s orders, I took: 1 Tylenol PM, a prescribed Muscle Relaxer and pain medication – all just to fall asleep. Over the past few weeks, however, all of that medication was not enough. I found myself waking nightly anywhere from 1:00 am to 4:30 am in severe pain. While one would guess that I was woken by my back pain, this relentless pain rooted itself in my left hip. Don’t get me wrong, it often found its way across my low back, too, but the culprit itself over the past three weeks was (usually) my hip.

The problem with poor sleep is that there is not one simple solution. When I’d wake from pain each night, it wasn’t as simple as “just close your eyes and go back to bed.” Mark, my Biofeedback Therapist, taught me several relaxation techniques to try when the Pain Monster came out at night; sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn’t. Nancy, one of my PTs, also taught me various stretches that she thought could help; sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t.

Gage, my poor husband, suffered just as much as I did. It’s hard to sleep when your wife is getting up every night, stretching, meditating, getting a drink of water, going to the rest room, making loud “relaxed” breathing sounds – or worse, crying, unable to get out of bed to get her heating pad, her ice pack, her medicine…

To get through the day, I’d try to compare my poor-sleep to several of my friends who have children – they went months, sometimes longer, on poor sleeping schedules and they still came to work, put on a happy face and lived their lives. However, Mark reminded me that even though my dear friends did not “have it easy,” they did not suffer from chronic pain ON TOP OF their lack-of-sleep.

While that was supposed to comfort me, it didn’t…

NAUSEA: The next symptom that I started experiencing was first an extremely decreased appetite, then nausea once I did force some sort of food into my stomach. I’ve battled this dilemma for over two years – since my back “went out” in July of 2009; however, never to this degree. In the past two years, I have lost 27 pounds.

As the weeks passed and the pounds dropped, I was often asked if I was “trying” to lose weight. People who were close to me knew that I was not. Others, at first, assumed that I was working hard to lose weight for my (then up-coming) wedding. Any woman will admit that it always feels nice when she steps on the scale and sees that she “lost a few,” however, when I had already lost so much weight that two months before the wedding, I not only had to alter, but I was told by the seamstress that I needed to BUY a new wedding dress AND STILL get it taken-in, I started to worry.

After the surgery, I lost even more weight. When I returned to work following both the wedding and the surgery, I had lost a total of about 20 lbs. Twenty pounds on a woman who was not considered “over weight” prior to the weight-loss is very noticeable. To some, I became the topic of conversation and it became embarrassing. Even the school counselor, a woman whom I consider a friend, asked me if I “needed help” (implying that I had developed an eating disorder). I politely explained that yes, I needed help; I needed to be healed.

Another five months went by and none of my clothes fit me anymore; however, I was “just waiting” for the weight to come back so I was in denial of the need to buy anything new to wear. There was a time when I was wearing pants 8-sizes too big for me because I was spending so much money on hospital bills, rehabilitation and prescriptions (not to mention the fact that I ran out of sick days and was not getting paid for the days that I needed off to recover or make those doctor appointments) that I could not afford to buy clothes that fit. Thankfully, my mom offered to take me shopping as part of my Christmas gift and I could at least start to wear pants that didn’t slip off of me when I didn’t wear a belt. Nonetheless, I was still losing weight…

Three weeks ago, it got worse. For the past two years, Gage threatened, “If you get below 100 lbs, we need to do something about it!” What that “something” was; however, neither of us was certain…

When the sleep deprivation began over two weeks ago, the nausea and lack-of-appetite went into full effect. For those two weeks, I couldn’t get above that 100-pound “goal.” At that time, the pain in my body was SO unbearable that knots filled my stomach, not food; and when I finally could eat, I immediately felt sick afterwards, deterring my desire to eat again later. As with the sleeping problems, everything regarding my body, it’s healing and it’s needs, turned into a vicious cycle.

STRESS: They say “it comes in threes” – it being misfortune, and it was happening to me. On top of the endless nights and the belly-aches, work had become a circus. Spring was in the air, then one random day in March, it snowed, followed by a record-breaking 82-degree-day later that same week; all just days prior to our school’s Spring Break.

Two days before Spring Break, my head was wrapped up with two students who were in what we call a “crisis.” That entire day, I literally dragged my limp hip up and down flight after flight of stairs, chasing students who dangerously eloped from their classrooms or were having temper-tantrums in the main hallways. These same two kiddos had been dealing with a lot over the past few weeks and, as their Case Manager, it was my job to take-over when such crises occur.

After being screamed at (literally) for over an hour, “I hate you!” by a student at the top of his lungs - a student with whom I normally have a wonderful relationship - I could not help the tears from creeping into in my eyes. I could not hear those words one more time! I couldn’t feel the tension in my muscles from the echoes of his screams for one more second. I couldn’t ward-off the looming migraine from the volume of his voice for one more round. “I need a time-out,” I told him (and my colleague who saw the tears swelling in my eyes) and I left the room. Thankfully, another teacher-and-Team Mate was standing outside of my door “on watch” so she and I switched places. After a couple of deep breaths and a few seconds of silence, I pulled myself together and was able to go back in and help my student “turn his day around.”

Even though I managed to help that little guy get through the stresses of first grade and field trips – I couldn’t help but feeling like a failure…

Sometimes, I cannot help but ask: Will it ever stop?

Our Soundtrack

“Music is what feelings sound like,” (Unknown).

They say that scent is one of the strongest human ties to memories. While I do not deny this, I also believe that everyone’s life has her own soundtrack to take her down memory lane…

This blog is dedicated to two very special people in my life, my friends Stephanie and Melissa. I have known them for years. I have created millions of memories with each of them. My friendships with each of these leading ladies have soundtracks of their own…

I met Steph when I was 18 years old and a Freshman in college at Mizzou. Soon, she became my friend, then my best friend, then my roommate; now, she is a part of my family…

Steph and I filled our days (and years) with many activities; however, when I think of my College Days with Steph, my fondest memories are of Steph and I on the dance floor. We went out dancing at least 4 nights each week. One night, we’d go to a Reggae Club, the next night it was Techno, the following night we were swaying to a Jam Band and the next night we were jiving to Hip-Hop.

Stephanie’s (now) husband (then) worked for a place called the Blue Note, which was a popular Club in Columbia, MO for both concerts and dance parties. Steph and I practically lived there for the four years I was in college. We literally danced the night away…

When I first heard Katy Perry’s song, “Fireworks” I thought of Steph. This was the type of song that would drive Steph and I to the dance floor. This was the type of song that we would make us jump up and down, kick out our feet, throw our hands into the air and shake the hair out of our ponytails.

“Fireworks” by Katy Perry

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind
Wanting to start again

Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards
One blow from caving in

Do you ever feel already buried deep
Six feet under scream
But no one seems to hear a thing

Do you know that there's still a chance for you
Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework
Come on show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby you're a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gunna leave 'em fallin' down-own-own

You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know

You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July

Cause baby you're a firework
Come on show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby you're a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe-awe-awe"

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through

Cause baby you're a firework
Come on show 'em what your worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby you're a firework
Come on let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"
You're gonna leave 'em all in awe-awe-awe

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

This weekend, Gage and I were driving home from running errands and “Fireworks” came on the radio. I was exhausted and felt defeated. We only went to two stores; we were out-and-about less than two hours, yet my body screamed from pain.

When this song came on the radio my eyes filled with tears. Will I ever be able to dance with Steph like that again?

When I got home, I got on my computer. My friend, Melissa, had recently sent me a touching email in which she actually had written ME a song.

Has anyone ever written a song especially for you? It’s the most honoring, magical experience and gift that someone could give to another person!

I have known Melissa for five years. In that time, she and I have done everything from girlie-spa days to kickboxing classes to leading our own Women’s Group at church. Like with Stephanie, Melissa and I started out as friends; now she is family…

I often call both Stephanie and Melissa when I am feeling desperate and overwhelmed with emotions regarding my pain and my circumstances. Last week, Melissa wrote me this song:

(VS. 1) Why you?
Why now?
There's just too much at stake

Cry it loud
Cry it hard
But don't cry alone, you're not alone

(CH.) I know it's rough
I know there's pain
I know you've come so far

Try to look up
Try to look out
You're not alone in this

(VS. 2) Just relax
Take is slow
You've worked so hard to get here

Just refrain
Take some time
Child, You know I'll be here by your side, by your side

(Refrain) I know You're the start
I know You're the end
I know You're the start
I know You're the end
And I know You're here, You are here with me.....

Then, Melissa wrote,
“Now read it again, but think of it like this:
The first verse is me talking to you. The first chorus is also me talking to you.
The second verse is God talking to you. The second chorus is God talking to you this time.
The refrain is you talking to God. :O)”

I, of course, cried when I read this – how could my dear friend know my heart so?

Then I realized that those who know me truly know both me and my physical situation. They are my Prayer Warriors; they are those who call every week to check-in on me, they understand when Gage and I have to say “no” to an invitation, they offer me their chairs when they find me standing, they open the door for me, they are those who carry my bags up or down a flight of stairs, those who listen to me when I am in despair, those who protect me from physical harm and they hug me when I cry…

Those of you who know me, know my heart. You know me beyond my job, my husband, my circumstance and my pain; and I am so thankful for each and every one of you.

Friends (and Family) like Steph and Melissa have made great efforts to adapt to my new, limited life. Instead of dancing and kickboxing, we paint our nails and have girl-talk over coffee; instead of going on road trips, we have phone-dates; instead of nights on the town, we have game-nights at home; instead of spending the day shopping, we spend the day at my doctor’s office. Friends like Steph and Melissa don’t just dance with me, they sit by my side and sing along…

Thank you for the song…

Someone Like Me... All Screwed Up

Yesterday, Dr. Julie said to me, “Steph, you are such a good writer, I wish that there was some way someone like you could share your story with others who are experiencing chronic pain.” I was very honored by Dr. Julie’s compliment, especially considering the fact that she has only seen my writing through regular medical emails.

When I got home from her physical therapy appointment yesterday, I opened my blog for the first time in weeks… Who is “someone like me?” She is a 30-year-old woman who has lost her youth. She is a person who lives with pain day and night, hour after hour, every second of every moment in her life. She has to say “no” to family, to friends, to parties, to baptisms, to the movies, to church, to helping others, to funerals, to after-school meetings, to going on dates with her husband, to traveling, to birthday parties, to even petting her dog if that dog happens to be lying on the floor lower than the degree she is allowed to bend forward… She used to be an athlete; she played soccer, softball, was on the swim team, voted co-captain of her cheerleading squad, took tennis lessons, joined a kickboxing class every week, did yoga and pilates daily, enjoyed gliding down Grant’s Trail on her bike, even trained to run a marathon… Someone like me wakes up every morning afraid of the day, knowing that even if she planned every second of that particular day, something unexpected could occur that would trigger a degree of pain that was unbearable and she wouldn’t know how to make that pain go away; not that it would matter, for the pain, no matter how intense or minute, never truly goes away…

Someone like me does not have blood coming out of her ears. Her bones are not wrapped in a cast. Her skin is not black-and-blue. She does not have tubes coming out of various places in her body. She sometimes doesn’t even walk with a limp…

Dr. Julie understands this. However, she said that if others-like-me had a voice, maybe people in their lives would understand the severity and daily burdens of someone like me who suffers from chronic pain…

It’s been a while since my last update… A LOT has happened, both in my personal and medical life… The last blog I wrote, I dedicated it to those friends and family members who have been there, by my side, through it all. Three days after I wrote that blog, one of those very important, wonderful, special people passed away unexpectedly. Since that tragic day, even though I know writing this blog is both therapeutic to me and informative to those who read it, I could not make myself sit down to write it. However, after talking to Dr. Julie yesterday, I realized that Someone-Like-Me needs to keep writing Something-Like-This….

Medically, the tornado has touched down again. While waiting for my operation report (aka, the “op report”) from The Surgeon’s office, I was able to sneak a few post-operation x-rays to Dr. Julie. Dr. Julie had been waiting for these x-rays because she had a hope and a theory and a plan to treat my pain. Upon reviewing the x-rays, however, even her hopes were shaken…

For weeks, Dr. Julie had been focusing my treatment on my hip alignment; however, she was concerned because she knew that The Surgeon added “extra” screws to my pelvis during the spinal fusion surgery. Dr. Julie was afraid that the screws were inserted into my iliac joint – according to the x-rays, her fears were confirmed. Because the screws are where they are, my body is extremely restricted. Dr. Julie said, “I don’t know how your surgeon ever thought that you could recover with these screws located where they are in your body! They are restricting your body to such a degree that it is reacting with severe, acute pain directed mostly to your hips – which are over-compensating for the restrictions in your back; however, the screws are also restricting your hips….”

Why did The Surgeon put those screws in those particular spots? We don’t know. I had to go through a very tedious process at Wash-U which involved contacting the Records Department, waiting for release forms, completing such forms, sending them back to the Record Department and now I have to wait 30-45 days to receive the op report, along with any additional information that we could get from The Surgeon that might shed some light onto the function of the screws.

My first reaction to the news of the screws was, “Do I have to have surgery again to get them removed?” This question TORTURED me. The pain that I experience every day is a paper-cut compared to the knife literally in my back and the pain that followed that excruciating surgery. Once I got home from the hospital, I recall begging Gage, “Please, don’t ever let me have surgery again; I couldn’t do it; I can’t do it again…”

Dr. Julie said that there are many risks to getting the screws removed. More importantly, she said that option is not going to be discussed until more information is discovered. Dr. Julie wants to wait for the op report; then she will consult with a Physiatrist regarding the physical impact of the screws. If, in the op report, Dr. Julie clearly sees a functional reason for the screws, then her Medical Team is going to do everything they can to “structurally create a dysfunctional way” to work with the screws and still provide treatment that will lesson the restrictions in my body and, with all hope, decrease my pain. If the op report does not clearly explain the function of the “extra” screws, then she said we would consult with several other medical doctors (including surgeons) to review the risks and benefits of keeping the screws in the back versus removing them.

And now I wait… I painfully wait… Dr. Julie cannot officially begin a specific Treatment Plan until we get the op report and she then runs the information by a series of professionals. So now, while I wait, Dr. Julie and her amazing staff of physical therapists, pain management specialists and Biofeedback therapists, receptionists and office manager try to help keep the pain at its least.

Someone like me, today, is all screwed up…