In 2023, our lives changed forever.

My dad, James Wood, suffered a severe brain injury following medical complications during what was meant to be life-saving surgery.

He went from being a lively, talkative man, always joking, riding his bike, playing golf, cooking, and working as a top salesman, to someone who now struggles to walk, speak clearly, and even swallow safely.

Today, he lives with Perioperative Hypoxic Ischaemic Vascular Parkinson’s, a rare and devastating condition that has permanently altered his brain function.

But the hardest part is how it unfolded.

For the first six months, we were told Dad would get better.

We were reassured that what we were seeing, his confusion, his lack of movement, his decline, was just medication side effects. At one point, he was even misdiagnosed with depression, and further investigation stopped.

We held onto hope because we were told to.

It took two years of advocating for Dad before we finally received the diagnosis that confirmed what we had feared all along, he was not going to recover.

During that time, my mum, Nina, made decisions based on what she was being told.

Just six months after Dad became unwell, she bought a small cafe in Kalamunda, now Redgum Cafe.

At the time, it made sense.

The cafe would bring in less income than her previous job, but we believed Dad would recover and return to work. Together, they would make it work.

But Dad didn’t get better.

And Mum became the sole breadwinner, while also caring for Dad and holding our family together.

Since opening the cafe, Mum has worked around the clock to keep everything going.

She is there five days a week, cooking and serving customers. The other two days are spent ordering, organising staff, doing paperwork, and preparing for the week ahead.

There are no real days off.

Then, in mid-2025, Mum was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.

She needed surgery, but she delayed it for months because we could not afford to close the café for even a week.

When she finally had the operation, the cancer was removed.

But her doctors were clear, she needs radiotherapy to stop it from coming back.

She was meant to have this treatment in October.

She is only now able to have it in April.

Not because she didn’t want to, but because she simply could not step away from the cafe.

The treatment requires her to stay away from others for a full week due to radiation.

Which means the cafe has to close.

Which means the income stops.

And right now, we cannot absorb that loss.

So Mum has done what she always does.

She has put herself last.

Meanwhile, Dad requires constant rehabilitation and care.

He has lost his independence, his career, and many of the basic functions most of us take for granted.

He does receive some NDIS funding, but it is not enough to cover the level of support he truly needs.

My parents did everything right. They had insurance in place, including income protection, which is currently helping cover our mortgage and basic expenses.

But that support will end.

And when it does, we don’t know how we will manage.

This is why I am so worried now.

Mum needs time, not just to recover from her treatment, but to fight for the support Dad needs.

To advocate for increased NDIS funding.

To organise therapies.

To put a plan in place before that financial safety net disappears.

Without this, everything will fall back onto the cafe, and onto her.

My sister Saffron and I do everything we can.

We work at the cafe, take Dad to the gym, help him stay active, and make sure he gets out of the house for things like golf lessons to maintain his coordination.

But as full-time students and workers trying to build our own futures, the emotional and financial load is overwhelming.

Dad is often home alone when he’s not at appointments, and sitting on the couch does nothing for his recovery.

We are also trying to seek answers about what happened to Dad.

We previously engaged a no win, no fee lawyer, but unfortunately that approach was unsuccessful. To pursue this properly now requires experienced legal representation, which we simply cannot afford without help.

This fundraiser is about giving my mum one thing she hasn’t had in a long time.

A chance to stop.

We are raising funds to:

    •    Allow Redgum Cafe to close for one full week so Mum can undergo her radiotherapy

    •    Give Mum breathing room to reduce her workload and recover

    •    Support advocacy to secure proper NDIS funding for Dad

    •    Fund Dad’s ongoing rehabilitation and essential home modifications

    •    Help us access legal support to properly investigate what happened to Dad

My mum should not have to choose between her health and keeping our family afloat.

But right now, that is the choice she is facing.

I just want her to be able to have her treatment.

Any donation, no matter how small, will make a real difference.

It will help us support Mum through her treatment, care for Dad, and take the steps we need to stabilise our future.

If you’re not able to donate, sharing this page means more than you know.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for reading and supporting our family through the hardest chapter of our lives.

Keara Wood & Family