Something as seemingly simple as back pain can have life-changing consequences.
Monica* always worked full time and prided herself on her job. “I worked in a printing and framing shop in the sales department and sourced prints for offices throughout Sydney,” she says. “I managed 11 men in the framing factory. I didn’t take a lunch break or a holiday for 17 years and I prided myself on that.”
But in 2014, when Monica was in her mid-40s, things changed. “I had really strong back pain for a number of years and then one day just before Christmas my back collapsed completely,” she says. “I thought I’d get back to work after a break.”
Despite resting over the Christmas break, Monica couldn’t return to work. “I was in so much pain,” she says. “I could barely stand.”
Over the next four years, Monica went to various doctors, chiropractors and surgeons in the hope of finding answers to her pain. “It didn’t matter what I did or who I saw [no treatment or therapy seemed to fix my pain],” she says.
A diagnosis, frustratingly never came, but Monica knew something was seriously wrong with her back. “I went through two years of agony where I could barely move,” she says. “In the mornings, I would sit on the end of my bed and assess the pain level. It’d typically be a five or six out of 10. Then the next five hours would be a solid eight out of 10. I couldn’t hold my arm up to the clothesline to hang out washing – my dad had to lower it for me. There was nothing I could do.”
I was in so much pain. I could barely stand.
Monica didn’t return to work after Christmas 2014 – because her injury didn’t occur at work or wasn’t caused by her employment, she was not covered by workers’ compensation. “Throughout all of my working life, I had been sailing through a nice corporate career, wearing my nice high heel shoes,” she says. “And now, they are packed up in the shed because my career is over. At times it feels like I'm a dreadful failure.”
Monica’s unexplained condition means that she can’t stand or sit for any length of time. She finds some relief from her pain by lying down, but is realistic about her chances of returning to work. “I’d love to go back to employment but how do you do that if you need to say to the employer, ‘I’m sorry I need to lie on ground for 15 minutes,’” she says.
“I’m receiving treatment from a chiropractor and doctor, and while there is hope that at some stage I’ll return to work, my doctor has said it won’t be for a while.”
Her condition, to-date, hasn't moved from a general diagnosis of 'chronic pain', with an unknown cause. But how do you explain the way you feel to family and friends if you don't really know what is causing your condition or your specific illness doesn't have a proper name?
"One of my brothers keeps saying to me, 'I just don’t get it. You seem fine.' He doesn't see that this is real. I know I look fine when I see them, but then I go home and spend the next four hours lying down recovering. They think it's in my head.
"My mum said to me, 'Why don’t you get some voluntary work?' Why would I do that, if I was capable of standing for six hours, I'd get a paid job."
They think it's in my head.
Being in chronic pain has had a significant impact on Monica’s mental health. “There have been so many down patches,” she says. “I’ve been pretty miserable. Some days I’ve just cried and cried.”
Monica’s relationship with her two children has also shifted. “At times it’s like they are the parents and I’m the child,” she says. “They have to help me with all kinds of simple things that adults can usually do by themselves. Sometimes my daughter has to help undress me at night. At times I’ve just slept in my clothes.”
Financially, Monica is struggling. It’s something she never dealt with when she was employed. “I’m a single mother and I’m unemployed,” she says. “I used to go to the bank and just start crying. I’m receiving government benefits. I never thought it would be like this.”
For Monica, her outlook on life has been changed by this experience. “I’ve learned about what poverty really means and how it can happen to anyone regardless of whether they have a job,” she says. “But through this ordeal, I’ve come to learn that there are beautiful parts of life. I ask my son’s friends in and I get to spend time with them. And I’m hopeful that I’m going to get to the point that I can commit to a job without letting people down. Because why would anyone want to be out of work? Especially when you had a successful career like I had.”
I had been sailing through a nice corporate career, wearing my nice high heel shoes. And now, they are packed up in the shed because my career is over. At times it feels like I'm a dreadful failure.
Monica’s ambitions for the future are modest. “I want to get back to work,” she says. “I would love to have an hour when I am free of pain. I’d love for my family to see me up and about and doing everything I used to do. I want people to look at my situation but I want them to see me for me.”
*Name has been changed to protect privacy.
Season 3 of Struggle Street premieres Wednesday 9 October at 8.30pm on SBS. The four-part documentary series continues weekly on Wednesdays. Episodes will stream at SBS On Demand after broadcast.
These videos were produced in partnership with SBS and the University of Sydney’s Matilda Centre for Research in Mental Health and Substance Use, Social Policy Research Centre, and Charles Sturt University.
