When my back went picking up my daughter, I didn't know it was a sign of a sinister condition. Days later doctors feared I would never walk again. Six years on I still need crutches and have bladder issues. Never dismiss these symptoms as 'just' a bad back

Any child’s first birthday is a special time for a family but, for ours, it felt particularly precious.

I’d had a long period of infertility and two failed rounds of IVF, so when I eventually got pregnant naturally it was joyful, the moment we’d been waiting seven years for.

We were planning a birthday party for our daughter, Shola, in London, with family and friends. We’d just moved into a flat in the city: a new home for our new family – albeit at the top of 47 stairs, so planning had been very strenuous.

One day, bending over to put the little one into her cot, my back suddenly went.

At 36, I’d had the odd bad back before, but this felt more intense and painful enough that I made an appointment with my GP.

I was tired and emotional when I got there and she probably thought ‘new mum, bit dramatic’. She gave me some painkillers and a number to self-refer to a physio but the first available appointment was weeks away.

In the meantime, I made an appointment with an osteopath and the treatment seemed to help.

Eight days later, the day before Shola’s party, a cousin and a friend came to help me decorate the function room we had hired. My back still felt bad, so I sat and directed operations. That night, I took a bath with Epsom salts hoping it would help but I was in too much agony to get out.

I was tired and emotional when I got to the GP and she probably thought ‘new mum, bit dramatic’, says Zoe Fox

Zoe’s back pain was a sign of a rare condition called cauda equina syndrome, where a herniated disc crushes into the bundle of nerves at the base of the spinal cord

Eventually, I hauled myself up and collapsed on the floor, a wet, naked, mess. The outside of my foot started to go numb. I paced gently all night in so much agony I couldn’t think straight.

I went back to the osteopath but her manipulations made things far worse. I got a taxi home but, as I went to swing my legs out of the cab, I realised I couldn’t feel them.

Somehow, I dragged myself up the stairs and called 111 who sent an ambulance immediately. My daughter went off to her party with my parents while my husband and I went to the hospital.

I was convinced I’d be given something to fix it and be back at the party in no time. I didn’t realise just how serious things were about to get.

I was taken for an emergency MRI scan and, soon after, a doctor came in and said they needed to operate in the next few hours or I was going to be paralysed permanently.

It turned out what I’d thought was just back pain was a sign of a rare and sinister condition called cauda equina syndrome, where a herniated disc crushes into the bundle of nerves at the base of the spinal cord.

When I came round after the operation I was just happy to be alive, but over the next few days came the slow realisation that my life wasn’t going to be the same.

I was told by my consultant that I would need to learn to walk and use the toilet again at the same time as my daughter would be learning it for the first time.

I had a catheter fitted and was told I had a ‘neurogenic bowel’ – a loss of normal function caused by nerve damage.

I started speaking to spinal specialists and realised the long-term impact of the injury on my body. They were very dark days and I had some bleak thoughts about how I could live with this pain and dysfunction. But, in the back of my mind, I knew I had to carry on for my daughter.

It was the Spinal Injuries Association (SIA), a charity I’m now an ambassador for, that really came to my rescue.

The charity connected me to a urology nurse who came to my house and taught me how to self-catheterise. It also put me in touch with a bowel nurse who got the equipment in place so I could manage my own bowel routine. And it got me access to counselling support.

It took 13 months to be admitted to the Stanmore spinal injuries unit and the one month I spent there was an amazing experience, because I learned how to manage my condition in a specialised environment and bonded with others in rehab.

A lot of emotions would come up, a lot of pain and grief. I started journalling and found solace in that instead of trying to push these feelings down. I was letting the paper hold the weight of these heavy emotions.

Between the pain and loss of muscle tone in my legs, I had real mobility issues. I’d sit next to the window in my kitchen and look out at the trees. There are three big trees outside the house and I watched them come into bud.

I started to feel like I was connecting to something much bigger, that I was a part of nature.

Zoe is now an ambassador for the charity Spinal Injuries Association, which had helped her access medical and counselling support

With the charity, Zoe went to Downing Street in November 2025 to make recommendations around spinal cord injury strategy

There were other positive changes. Since I was a teen, I’ve had lipoedema, a chronic, progressive disorder characterised by the abnormal accumulation of fat, primarily in the legs, hips and sometimes arms. For years, I punished myself for the way that I looked.

Then, one day, I was sitting on my bed and I thought, ‘All my life I’ve been berating my legs but I’ve been given the opportunity to see for a moment what it would be like if they didn’t function.’

I know so many people in the spinal cord injury community that are not able to return to their homes due to accessibility.

It’s been six years now and I’m still trying to get my head around it all. My bladder has improved significantly, but I still have pelvic floor challenges, so coughing – and laughing – is a risky business.

I’ve got permanent neuropathic pain and haven’t had a single day off from that. My feet are always on fire, and I have random spasms in my legs.

I now use crutches over short distances and a mobility scooter or my wheelchair for longer ones.

I’m so proud that, with SIA, I went to Downing Street in November 2025 to make recommendations around spinal cord injury strategy.

The truth is that on the other side of all that discomfort I’ve experienced an expansion of myself and stepped into a version of me that’s more in line with who I really am.