My first experience of Horatio’s Garden South West was on my second day in the spinal centre. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be out there yet, but after a month in Taunton Musgrove Park Hospital ICU, stuck between sterile walls and artificial lights, I was desperate to breathe fresh air again. So, I bent the rules, just a little. I didn’t stay long, just enough to feel the breeze, to let the scent of the flowers settle something deep inside me, but it was enough to know that this place would be my escape.
When I arrived at the spinal centre in August 2023, I wasn’t just dealing with my injury, I was grieving my old life. The operation to fix a disc crushing my spinal cord had left me with a T10/12 incomplete spinal cord injury. Before that, I had walked for miles every day, through the countryside where I lived, rain or shine. Now, I found myself suddenly still, trapped indoors, wondering how I would manage without the movement that had always grounded me.
That’s where Horatio’s Garden came in. I spent every moment I could out there. Whether it was helping Lucy, the head gardener, sweeping and tidying flowerbeds, or simply sitting with a coffee and a slice of cake, the garden became my refuge. It was where I could process everything – what had happened to me, what my future might look like – in a space that felt warm and friendly.
Most of the positive memories from my time in the centre happened in that garden. My daughter and I enjoyed many afternoons battling over Scrabble, laughing at ridiculous words we tried to pass off as real. My grandson loved playing hide and seek among the plants, his laughter ringing through the space. When my birthday came around, there was no question about where to celebrate, it had to be the garden.
I also found something unexpected during my time in the gardens: creativity. Before my injury, I had never thought of myself as artistic. Sure, I loved baking, but painting? Woodwork? Glass fusing? Those were things I never envisaged myself doing. But with time on my hands and an open mind, I tried everything the garden room had to offer. Now, my home is dotted with little pieces of that journey. Mosaics, paintings, handmade decorations – each one a reminder that I can still learn, still create, and still grow.
Leaving the centre wasn’t the end of my connection to Horatio’s Garden. I visit when I can, and my first stop is always the garden, to see how it’s doing, how it’s changed with the seasons. I’ve kept in touch with patients and volunteers, and I’ve offered to come back as a volunteer to talk to the new people in the gardens, share my experience and encourage them to make the most of it. Because the garden isn’t just a garden, it really is a lifeline. A kind of medicine you don’t get from doctors, one that heals not just the body, but the mind and soul too. I have no doubt that without it, my time in the centre would have been much darker.
Life after a spinal injury is full of unknowns, of challenges you don’t expect. But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that you’re never too old to try new things, never too stuck to find new joys. And sometimes, the smallest escapes; a quiet garden, a game of Scrabble, a birthday cake shared with family are the things that make all the difference.
The creative workshops Roxie mentions are part of the charity’s Arts Programme, generously supported by Arts Council England.
