When Life Changes in an Instant: How Philosophical Health Helps Us Re‑Author Our Story
Photo: Benjamin Gilbert'
“When I looked down at myself I didn’t see anything wrong. I had woken up in a new body that looked the same as my old one.”
Reading Grace Spence Green’s account of her spinal cord injury is both devastating and deeply human. One moment she was a medical student in a shopping centre; the next, she woke up in a body she didn’t recognise, unable to move her legs, her life irreversibly altered.
Grace writes with searing honesty about the surreal early days after her injury—about being “tipsy on morphine,” about her body being turned, washed, and prodded by strangers, about smiling for visitors by day and crying at night. She captures the strange tension of being simultaneously alive and adrift, stripped of control, dignity, and the story she once told herself about who she was and who she would become.
It is here—in the space between the life we had and the one we must now live—that philosophical health has profound value.
Philosophical health is the practice of tending to life’s biggest questions—meaning, values, purpose, and identity—especially in times of change, loss, or uncertainty. It is not about abstract theories, but about equipping ourselves with tools to navigate moments when our old narratives no longer fit.
After events like Grace’s accident, the world as we knew it fractures. Questions arise that medicine alone cannot answer:
Who am I now?
What makes life meaningful from here?
How do I live well in a body that feels unfamiliar?
These questions can be frightening. But they are also the starting point for re‑authoring our story—for finding a new sense of self, agency, and purpose in a life that looks different but is still worth living.
Grace describes how she began to write each day after leaving the high‑dependency unit. That act of writing—of making sense of what had happened, of finding language for the unspeakable—was an act of philosophical health. It was a way of claiming back her story in the midst of powerlessness.
Philosophical health invites us to slow down, to reflect, and to have the conversations that matter: What kind of person do I want to be, even now? What values will guide me through this? How do I want to show up for myself and others?
No one can erase the pain or indignity Grace endured. But her story reminds us that even when life is shattered, meaning is still possible. Dignity is still possible. A good life—though forever changed—is still possible.
For clinicians, carers, and communities, this is a powerful call: our role is not only to heal bodies but also to hold space for these deeper human questions. Because while titanium may hold vertebrae together, it is meaning, love, and connection that hold a life together.
Grace’s story is a testament to that truth—and a reminder of why philosophical health belongs at the heart of how we care for one another.
Her memoir, To Exist As I Am: A Doctor’s Notes on Recovery and Radical Acceptance, published by Wellcome Collection, offers an unflinching, deeply humane exploration of life after paralysis. Through her reflections, she invites us to rethink independence, embrace interdependence, and rediscover meaning in the wake of profound change.
The Wellcome Collection also hosted an event with Grace in June 2025—Radical Acceptance and Recovery—where she shared her insights on recovery, community, and identity.
Her story is not just one of survival—it’s a call to all of us to protect dignity, to honour each person as fully human, and to remember that healing is as much about meaning as it is about medicine.
