The Journey

When discussing my recovery, people often ask: “what was the turning point?” The truth is that there was no one monumental point where things started getting better for me. As lovely and poetic as that would be, I think it is pretty naive to presume that one day something will happen and everything will change for the better. Significant life improvements are seldom the result of one defining moment, but more an accumulation of many smaller ones.

The earliest stage I can recall where things began to improve was at some point while undergoing copious amounts of blood tests, scans and assessments. Doctors were trying to establish the root cause of my pain, and were frustratingly coming up short. I became intrigued by the human body and what actually goes on at a cellular level in diseased states. With no existing knowledge of basic anatomy or physiology, never mind pathology, I was eager to learn. I began reading books on the human body and the pain system, and before long I was reading medical journals and felt passionate about pursuing a career in healthcare science.

With the type of job I was interested in, a particular degree in biomedical science was necessary. To be accepted onto the university course, I required Scottish Highers in Chemistry and Biology: a reasonable request, I thought, but neither of which I had. At the time, I was struggling to work a full time administrative role in financial services, but I enrolled in evening classes at college to obtain my Higher Chemistry qualification, then Higher Human Biology the year after.

I would be lucky if I physically attended half of these classes as my body was struggling to keep up with the extra demand I was placing upon it. My pain started worsening, but I was determined not to fall behind, and without boring you with all of the details, I passed both exams and was granted a place at Glasgow Caledonian University.

University life for me was far from the typical “uni experience” of mid-week partying and stumbling into lectures still pissed from the night before. But I genuinely didn’t, and still don’t, mind that. I was classed as a “mature student” (which is baffling at the grand old age of 21) and lived at home, making the joyous M80 commute each day I was well enough to attend.

The staff at the university were absolutely fantastic at making adjustments to accommodate my needs throughout the course. I previously held a blue badge (will elaborate on this later), and so was allowed to park my car on university grounds to minimise walking distance. They also ensured there was a computer chair in each of the large lecture halls and a high-backed stool in the labs for me to use as opposed to the uncomfortable seats and stools which caused my pain to worsen. I remember dreading exams which required fuller written answers as my fingers and hands would seize up after writing only a few lines. However, as soon as I expressed my concern, they arranged for me to use a laptop for the subsequent assessments.

If you are reading this and are in a similar situation to the one I was in, please don’t be afraid to reach out and ask for some assistance. This applies whether it is your place of employment or study, or simply in day to day life. I used to detest asking for help. Sometimes I felt as if I was admitting defeat; that I was weak and inferior to my peers. Other times, I felt like a fraud and that there were people a lot worse than me so I should just shut up and get on with it. Let me assure you that it takes a lot more courage to ask for help for things like this than to suffer alone in silence. I realise now that there is absolutely nothing to feel ashamed or embarrassed about, and most people are generally willing to help in any way they can. You’re simply being given the tools to ensure you have the same opportunities as everyone else without disadvantage.

I believe the experience I gained from working in an office job, having reason behind what I was studying and having genuine career prospects at the end of the course was really beneficial for me in terms of motivation. I wasn’t fully motivated all of the time, obviously, as nobody ever is. At times, and particularly during my 3rd year work placement, I would be bothered by the odd intrusive thought. “You're not well enough for a job this physically demanding”; “who are you trying to kid, you’re never getting through this course”, etc. etc. But those are just thoughts; they are not real life. I managed to maintain the minimum 80% attendance required for the course and in 2019, graduated with a first class honours degree in Applied Biomedical Science.

Having this goal at the start helped me get through living in pain as I was focused on something other than the agony for once. I’m certain anyone who has struggled with chronic pain will acknowledge how easy it is to become consumed by it. However, I knew I wanted more from life and I was essentially too stubborn to succumb to a life where I made decisions based on how much pain I was in as opposed to what was important to me. I also believe that knowledge is power. Educating yourself on what is going on in your body is so important, as it aids your understanding which ultimately assists in developing a stronger, more beneficial mindset.

In the years that followed my decision to study and pursue a career in biomedical science, I tried a multitude of treatments and completed several different programmes. Some of these were as useful as a glass hammer, while others were significant contributors towards how well I am today. With all of the programmes that I found beneficial, each one seemed to build on what I had learned from the last, and I look forward to sharing these experiences with you in the posts to come.

Thank you for reading :)

Much love, Kirsten xo