ABOUT
ME
Passionate About Inspiring Others
Prior to the accident, I would have described my life as average. Despite how colourful it actually was. Born and bred in Rabaul, PNG I had quite an idyllic childhood, gaining exposure to Australia through boarding for high school in Armidale, NSW.
My passion for the ocean was furthered by becoming a scuba instructor and working through Australia and the Pacific in my early twenties. My son, Freeman, was born in 1993 prompting a move back to Rabaul, working for an NGO established by my father.
After living through volcanic eruptions for a couple of years, I brought Freeman down to settle in Australia. John and I were married in 1999, and I built a successful career in IT sales. Life was good. Freeman’s school and multiple rugby teams led to long term friendships, as did the neighbourhood and dog park communities. I managed to travel for both work and fun, and maintained a good level of fitness thanks to a supportive Crossfit group I’d become a part of.
Then came the long weekend in June 2013. Nothing adventurous or risky. Just a group of friends gathering for lunch to celebrate a couple of birthdays. The beautiful Brisbane winter days meant lunch was out on the deck. Renovations were almost finished. The frame for the verandah was up, our friends just waiting on the wires to be installed. Caught up in conversation near the kitchen door I squatted down to pat my dog, and fell through a gap, landing 3 metres below on the concrete slab, first hitting my back then head.
Three seconds. Even if it took that long. And life changed completely. Forever.
How life changes is the challenge. The spinal cord was damaged at T11/T12, and there was an acquired brain injury. I had 6 months in hospital before being sent home to learn to manage how best to live with a wheelchair. Medical advice was that I would never walk. I would never be without the chair. And that whatever progress made in the first two years would be the best I could hope for.
From the moment I was aware of the damage, I refused to accept the diagnosis. The wheelchair and I were destined to part ways. And the sooner the better. Even while in hospital, I worked as hard as I could, trying everything and anything to wake my legs up.
That determination, motivation and ability to strive that I have found are remarkable. What I am able to do defies my diagnosis. My ability to stand, even take steps, continues to gain strength as I move further and further away from the need for the chair.
My willingness to share the story of my journey, warts and all, is a clear demonstration of the power to choose. Even though my journey is far from over, I hope to inspire and empower others by sharing.