Thirty-five days ago I had major surgery on my spine. Despite everything, I woke up with the ability to wiggle my toes and to thank my lucky stars that I’m still alive. We are now unwilling to say that it worked, that it helped or that it even left me in a similar state to how I was before but it was a chance that I needed to take. I spent €8,000 on a surgery that probably didn’t work and still, I have no regrets. The headache that I had for almost two years that started when I was nineteen is back, along with the pains in my arms and the pins and needles and chest pain. This time it presents with neck pain so they’re realising that despite the diagnosis of anxiety all those years ago, a diagnosis I never agreed with, despite all of that - it was always because of my spine. I don’t know what options I have now, aside from chronic pain, but I think I’m finally starting to accept my truth instead of being sad and angry all the time.