Pain behind the petals

By Virginia Winder

I hide behind flower photographs. 

Each day I post a new bloom on Facebook and do my best to brighten the world. Just a bit. 

But really, it's me who benefits the most because I am forced to look beyond myself at something beautiful. 

Behind the flowers there's been a lot of pain lately - physically and mentally. 

But I survived, obviously, because of friends, whanau, strong drugs, mindfulness and our free health service. 

But mainly it was the people dear to me, who got me through. 

In September, I hurt my back, again, and ended up with a prolapsed disc. 

Some days I was relatively mobile, while others I felt like fire-heated nails were embedded in the nerves of my lower back, shooting pains right down my legs. 

Many times I was bed-ridden and forced to lie on my right side willing the pain away with mindfulness meditations. 

I walked with crutches, a Zimmer frame or on the arm of a loved one. 

This injury led to five visits to the emergency department, four hospital stays, three MRIs (sung to the 12 days of Christmas), two injuries, finishing with one spinal surgery (my third in 15 months). It was successful. 

During that time I was taking long-acting and short-acting morphine. It barely took the edge off. 

But what I learnt is there is a much better way of getting total pain relief - listening to friends. 

It's bloody boring living in a pain-scape and even worse focusing on that pain. 

Ah, but people and their stories, their lives,  are a guaranteed remedy to take the pain away. 

"Talk to me," I'd say slightly frantically. "I'm over me."

And they would invite me into their worlds and I would be soothed. 

Friends and family also helped me through even tougher times in November. 

I began having sleep spasms that woke me screaming with a half-body slam of nerve-crushing cramp. For 10 nights I lived in a twilight world of half sleep. 

After just two days of this, I plummeted. 

My mood, which had been  as steadfast as my damn-the-pain attitude, hit zero. Danger zone. 

I knew I couldn't be left alone. 

It's embarrassing to ask for help from kind hearts but necessary when your life is on the line. 

I had a promise to keep to my children and husband, so we sought help from the mental health service and a member of the brief care team visited me daily. But to keep me out of the mental health ward I needed a round-the-clock roster of people to be with me. 

My friends and family came en force.

Some made lunch for me, others sat with me and talked about what was going on in their lives and I learnt that their stories worked just as well for mental pain. 

But I was terrified of sleeping until one creative friend, in a burst of brilliance, noticed how strong foam was used to position patients for x-rays. She thought a foam wedge may help my back. It did and stopped the spasms! 

When sleep returned, so did my sanity. 

In high spirits, I visited a garden for a feature interview and injured myself further. Then a one-crutch wander around another garden and then the hospital turned me into a crippled mess. 

On a Monday morning I was taken to hospital by ambulance, learnt ACC had approved surgery, was admitted into Ward 3B where the nurses were wonderful (I think I was a bit cantankerous) and on Friday, December 2, had successful spinal surgery on my lower back. 

Now I'm slowly repairing and slowly repaying the kindness of many. 

So, there you go, the persona someone presents on Facebook may be at odds with what's truly going on behind the scenes. 

And the best thing you can do for another person is to share your story. 

This is mine for you - and it has a happy ending!