Linda Sturm’s Different Experience

Written by Susan Stasiak

Hi, my name is Susan. I was a friend of Linda’s through our 12-step recovery from alcoholism. I met Linda about three years before she died because she caught my attention. Every weekday morning, Linda showed up in her wheelchair at 7:00 am for a recovery meeting. THAT got my attention! I was in awe… and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one. She was in a wheelchair because she had MSA and had learned to accept the disease. After several months of getting to know Linda, I got an inner nudge to write about her life.

Linda agreed to work with me because she wanted to tell her story for the benefit of two groups-the recovery group and the Multiple Systems Atrophy group to help those who struggled with alcoholism and MSA.

For two years, I visited Linda weekly to capture her life story. One theme that Linda was profoundly aware of was her inner restlessness and drive to have “a different experience.” That theme was at the core of each major change in her life. She always wanted to try something new, and to try it all. She did. There were lots of adventures and fun, but also paths to richer experiences.

Linda didn’t follow the usual career selection after high school graduation, instead, at 19, she transferred out of state to finish her career schooling. Later, she started her own business, court reporting, and traveled the world. She was obsessed with adventures and fun. She wanted to make sure I wrote about her fun dancing during her crazy drinking days and to let everyone know that she invented windowsill dancing. It was a new and different experience-Linda’s specialty.

At some point, the disease of alcoholism took over. Linda’s adventures were no longer fun, and her life was miserable. By embracing a recovery program of honesty, humility, gratitude, and service to others, Linda got sober and stayed sober for the rest of her life, nearly 15 years. This was her second chance at life, and soon her fun-loving spirit re-emerged. She was back to adventures and trying new experiences… this time sober.

Linda’s sober adventures weren’t necessarily different, they just felt different because she could feel at a new depth. She became fully aware of the beauty of a crisp, moon-lit autumn night or a deep, heartfelt empathy for a friend. It was life on a new level for Linda.

Then came Linda’s MSA diagnosis. What did she do now? How did she handle this? How did she keep from feeling sorry for herself?

This was not an overnight transformation, but with sobriety, Linda applied surrender, humility, and gratitude as she worked toward acceptance and peace with her irrevocable MSA. Below, Linda describes a typical day with advanced MSA while showing us her determination and resilience without self-pity.

As I was getting ready for my dermatology appointment, the wheelchair brake didn’t hold, and I fell onto my bathroom floor. The slick, hard tile offered no traction, and even with grab bars, I couldn’t right myself to get back into the wheelchair. Both my upper and lower body muscles were no longer able to do the job. The public, wheelchair-accessible van came and waited but left when I didn’t show up.

I called my sister and brother-in-law, Sandy and Brian, but neither answered. Then I called my friend Sergei, who said he would come to help. Meanwhile, the van driver must have called EMS, as some emergency staff arrived and picked me up off the floor. Fortunately, they were familiar with my apartment and my condition because this was not the first time they had helped me. Sergei was kind enough to take me to the dermatologist. When I was finished, my sister, Sandy, picked me up from the dermatologist and took me to meet a friend for lunch.

It could have been a disaster, but it wasn’t because I have some really nice people in my life.

We all have expiration dates, but most of us don’t really know when we’re going to die. Some, like Linda, get “notarized letters” from medical professionals stating the cause of the expiration and the approximate time of passing. That information would prompt me to have a laser-like focus on my life, asking, “What’s most important to me?” It prompted Linda.

In the 12-step rooms, others witnessed, over three years, what was important to Linda. There she was, nearly every day of the week eventually in a wheelchair, participating as best she could. Towards the end of her life, Linda couldn’t speak well, although she tried. But she showed up every day. Her quiet presence uplifted and blessed the entire room. Linda was a great example to both newcomers and long-timers in recovery-she went to any length to stay sober.

I believe there was a spiritual quickening for Linda in her last few years… but not just for Linda. I believe all the communities Linda participated in benefited from the way she lived. There she was right before us, vulnerable and humble. Some of us recognize the call to service. And some of us act on that call, and miracles happen. Linda was of service to us, showing us what’s most important. Linda’s final experience wasn’t as crazy as windowsill dancing, but it was certainly more inspiring to all who saw her. As Linda would say to me about her sobriety and her MSA acceptance – “I wanted to have a different experience.”

Thank you, Linda. You showed us not only a different experience, but a sacred one.