My Wonderland

There was a time when therapy felt like war. Not the inspirational movie kind. The real kind. The one with screaming, resistance, heartbreak, and me standing in the hallway taking deep breaths as I fought back tears, telling myself this is good for him. Kaedyn has hated therapy more times than I can count. And honestly? I’ve tried to black out most of those sessions.... #PTSD But this year… something changed. Kaedyn started asking questions, and so we started having some pretty big conversations. The kind no parent really wants to have but knows they have to . The ones that pull no punches and leave your heart sore for days. “If you want to walk, buddy… you have to want it. You have to fight for it. You’re allowed to hate it—most people would. But five or ten years from now, you could be walking with a frame, or a stick, or maybe even unaided. That future? It’s yours to shape. We’ll help you, but we can’t do it for you.” I didn’t think it had sunk in. He’s 11. His world revolves ...

Kaedyn has two physio sessions a week... That’s it, Just two! Two precious hours where he gets to move without limits.  Where his body is supported to stretch, stand, strengthen. But now, those sessions are being cut. Not because he needs less.  Not because he’s improved.  But because behind-the-scenes admin work, goal tracking, documentation, care coordination, have to be more closely billed now due to the funding cuts. So therapists now have to do it inside the session time. His two one-hour sessions? Slashed to 45 minutes. That’s 30 minutes gone every single week. And let me be clear—this isn’t a dig at our therapy team. They’re brilliant. They’ve done everything they can to hold this system together while it quietly crumbles around them. This is a reality check. A painful, but a very human one, b ecause those 30 minutes?  That’s where Kaedyn moves in ways he can’t anywhere else.  It’s where he’s strapped into a bungee harness, free from fear of falling....

Today I had lunch with one of my closest friends. That sounds so normal, right?  But in our world, “normal” is a damn miracle. Between hospital appointments, therapy schedules, equipment fittings, cancelled plans and total emotional burnout...getting to lunch feels like summiting Everest! But today? We made it🤯 And somewhere between chicken karaage and coke, we talked about everything and nothing. That weird blend you only get with someone who knows your life down to the bare bone. What sat with me wasn’t what we said. It was what we didn’t. Her son has A-T. Terminal. Rare. Cruel. And constantly ticking with every day, week and month. We talked about how we don’t tell the kids everything. Not yet. Because once they know, there’s no unknowing. There’s a mercy in not understanding, at least for a little while. That thin layer of innocence is the last thing we can protect. Once it’s gone, it doesn’t grow back. I remember when she first found out. She went quiet. Ghosted the world, ev...

There’s a significant difference between what a sports physio does compared to what a paediatric physio provides and if you’ve ever stepped into our physio’s space, you’d know exactly why this is so important to our family. Our physio clinic looks more like a hybrid of a gym and a play space. There are cages designed so children can stand with the support of bungee cords, reformers, gym blocks, balance beams, bikes, walking frames, slides, climbing equipment, etc. The setup isn’t just impressive, it’s essential. This is where our funding goes! Every inch of the space is purpose-built to support children ranging from babies to young adults, each with their own unique physical challenges and goals. Beyond equipment, there are other massive costs: rent, insurance, wages, ongoing training, and the constant drive for innovation. Our physios are constantly evolving with the kids. And that’s not something you can replicate easily. I’ve never used other types of physios...

Today, something unexpected happened. The NDIA announced a big cut to physiotherapy rates across Australia. Here in WA, it dropped from $224.62 to $183.99 an hour. That's more than $40! For years, we searched for the right physio for Kaedyn. Not just any therapy, but a place where he feels safe, understood, and even happy. Where therapy isn’t just a task but something he can be part of. With Ben and lately Kal, Kaedyn has found that. Therapy hasn't always been fun; sometimes he would cry just knowing he had to go, but he laughs in sessions now. He’s challenged in ways that help him grow. He’s proud of himself. That kind of progress isn’t just physical; it’s about feeling valued and seen. But now, with these cuts, the future feels uncertain for so many of us.  These small clinics, these therapists who care deeply, can’t keep going if funding keeps shrinking. It means fewer appointments, fewer resources that benefit our kids, and the therapists we love just have to walk away...