I was born in the late 50s in the Midwest. Already as a teen I dreamt of becoming a nurse. To help other people during the sad days of sickness was about the best thing I could imagine for a poor farmer’s daughter to achieve. And I was overwhelmed with joy when I finally could start my training as a nurse at a small local hospital.

It was in my second year at that hospital that I had to accompany a very old and obese lady to the bathroom. She would slip and fall right into my arms. Of course I tried to stop her fall and I was successful.

But this lady was about 120kg, and I was in my prime with exactly 52kg. It was too much weight for me. This very moment I felt a sharp sting going all along my spine, and this pain would never leave me again.

Sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours, sometimes for days.
I did not dare to ask the doctors at my hospital about that pain. I was afraid to lose my job or to be scolded because I had not taken a wheelchair for the old lady. In a small town word goes around quickly, so I also did not dare to see any other doctor.

And anyway I doubt they would have helped me. Another two years later I married a fine man who is still with me. One more year and I was pregnant with my first child. My belly grew and so did my pain.

I did not dare to tell my husband. He was so proud of becoming a father and I did not want to spoil his joy by my mourning. And also I thought it might raise doubts as to my qualities as a mother. So I suffered in silence, hoping the chronic pain would disappear. I was utterly wrong.

But the pain did not recede; it became chronic and started its marks in my face. Whenever I looked in the mirror I could see the wrinkles grow long before their time had and I knew these were the marks of pain.

At home things were more difficult. As our daughter grew, so grew her weight, and with it the pain I suffered each time I took the child up, each time I played with the child. It was at this time that my husband told me he wanted a second child, this time preferably a boy. I did not know what to respond. I felt like saying: yes, wonderful, but could somebody first buy me a new back?

But I said nothing and just carried on with my chronic pain.

At this time I had already gathered enough medical knowledge to know that I had seriously damaged my spine. I knew that operations would most likely not bring any real relief form my chronic pain but just leave big scars on my body. But of course I had easy access to painkillers at my hospital and it did not long until realized that I started to become addicted to these painkillers.

The temptation was just too big for me to get my daily chronic pain relief and to evade the chronic pain into this mellow mind fog that the painkillers provide.

I felt bad and I suspected that all those ailments of our son were the consequences of my drug abuse. So now I thought my son had become a victim of my chronic pain.

I finally thought about quitting my job. But then I would be all alone at home in the daytime, with lots of homework, two challenging children and chronic pain. I was afraid of that. Also there were the monthly payments to be made for a house and two cars.

My husband did not make a lot of money, and even if we had sold one car, it would have been very difficult to make ends meet and it would have meant disaster if my husband had lost his job. So I worked on.

My husband is a good man, but he is not one of those guys that you would want to leave alone with unmade beds, an empty fridge and a mountain of laundry. And the painkillers started to have more and more impact on my daily working routines.

My concentration was slipping, I made mistakes, I forgot important duties, I knew there was gossiping behind my back and I knew I was on my way into catastrophe.

Chronic pain had ruined my life.

I finally decided, “it’s now or never.” I told my husband and my colleagues about my condition and I stopped working and stayed at home. My husband had to take a second job and he had to get used to come back to an untidy home late in the night and seven days a week.

My children had to understand that her mom was not as good as other children’s mothers and that she needed more rest than other mothers.
I reduced and finally stopped my pill consumption.

I was back to a clear head, ready for sad and boring days and filled with chronic pain.

It did not cost a fortune anyway so there was nothing to lose.And believe it or not: it worked.

The stuff was sold at an online head shop under the name of Kratom. It was grounded leaves from a South East Asian tree by the name of mitragyna speciosa. I would brew it into a very bitter tea and have several cups though the day.

And it killed the pain. Really killed it. Pain was dead and gone. I knew that it did not cure my back, but it took the chronic pain. And it did more:
It made me happy, more pro active, more optimistic. No mind fog, no bad feelings as I had them with all the RX drugs before.

One month later I was back at work. My husband was back to a single job. My children were back to an ordinary, loving mother. My family was back to a good, normal life.

Chronic pain affects countless people, but the research into and the fight against chronic pain continue successfully.

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