Kaatje Van Der Gaarden
Crippled, Chronic, and Unstoppable
In 2015, an orthopedic physician officially diagnosed me with adhesive arachnoiditis, but my problems with severe pain started decades sooner. I’d survived a nighttime skydiving accident which led to cauda equina syndrome, crushed sacral nerves, and lost two inches of spinal height from the 70 mph landing on my tailbone. Sitting had been painful, and I took a pillow with me wherever I went. But over the years the burning, stabbing pain had worsened to the point where even the skin on my trunk hurt. In 2010 I was diagnosed with central cord syndrome due to a benign spinal tumor at chest level, which meant another incurable neuropathic pain syndrome.
After almost a decade of working as a physician assistant (with leg braces, wheelchair, cane, or walker), I slowly descended into a soul-crushing existence, trapped inside my body. Despite swimming three times a week, I succumbed to the crippling pain and became confined to my memory foam bed, lying on my right side. Ice packs against my tailbone and a steady level of pain medications (small amount of opiates, large dose of gabapentin) barely enabled me to keep writing. I jotted down observations and jokes in an attempt to keep up my spirit. When I found out a nearby open mic had a couch, I schlepped my painful body and manual wheelchair there, to perform live. After a lifetime of extravagant adventures such as pre-accident solo hikes and ice climbing, and much later, academic, rewarding challenges, I faced my personal demons: performing in front of an audience with my lifelong insecurity, and loneliness.
Among painfully cold winters in the high desert, I kept swimming and performing as if my life depended on it. Which it did. But it wasn’t enough, and the pain told me the only way out was exiting this life. My sister flew in from Holland and drove me to a ketamine clinic, and that was the start of another adventure in pain management. I responded well, but ketamine wasn’t a cure, and I slowly accommodated being hospitalized four times a year until I stumbled upon the right protocol of two nights, every eight weeks.
Eventually, I wrote and published an evidence-based memoir and practical guide for chronic pain patients: The Queen of Ketamine: Medical Memoir of a Chronically Crippled Comedian. First published in 2019, the book weaves together personal storytelling, research, and dark humor—offering validation, insight, and survival tools to others living with pain.
I later began creating art using my mother’s brushes, feeling guided by her artist spirit and love. Unexpectedly, both of my parents passed away, and my mom’s death broke my heart, at a time when my Navajo boyfriend also lost three beloved relatives. Day-to-day life is still a struggle, but I had life-changing treatment in a Zoom ACT group. Thanks to the ketamine treatments, I now live independently with minimal home health care. This beautiful and heartbreaking fight has just begun.