Love What You do

I have a pretty good life. Gorgeous family, great friends, and I love my job. 

Its true. I love the people I work with, I love the company I work for, and I really love what I get to do on a daily basis. 

AND 

I love telling people what I do and where I work and more importantly, I love it when people realise that I'm not just paying lip service to some ideal work/life balance, that I am genuinely living it. 

I caught up with an ex colleague yesterday after not seeing each other for 2 years, and it was such a delight to hear him comment on how "happy" and relaxed I looked. 

The day before, I had lunch with a friend who insisted I've had Botox. (she's a doctor so I squinshed up my face to prove to her my face was all me!). 

Its not just that I "look" happy and relaxed, I feel it. I have so much energy, and I feel as though I have truly found my place. Not one day since I started at that company have I felt the dread of a work day. Sure there are a few days that seem to go slower than others, and Friday is always the best day of the week - but every day is rewarding and different. 

A few years ago I was working in a large global organisation in a job that I really did love. I worked with some of the most amazing people who remain very dear friends, and I learnt some valuable skills that have set me on my path. But toward the end of my time there, I wasn't too happy and it was fairly obvious to those who knew me. 

After leaving and taking some time out from corporate life, I returned last year to a smaller company in a slightly different role. I was still able to bring my expertise to the role; the new company embraced it, and empowered me with greater challenges. I am recognised for my contributions and I really feel valued. 

The best part of my new job is that my children see me doing something that I love, and hearing me talk about my days with positive energy. I am passing on the lesson in life that work doesn't have to be a chore. If you follow your heart and are passionate about the role you play in the world, you will be happy. 

And more importantly, champagne is so much better than Botox! 

Would you let your son play League?

I'm torn. I am the mother of two boys who absolutely love the game of rugby league. I also happen to love watching the game, but I hate what the game has done to my family. 

One son is 11 years old and he has been playing with the same group of boys since they were 5. It's been a pleasure watching them grow and develop into great little players. Their coach is an ex-A grade player (and an ex Wallaby), and is training the boys to play fairly and confidently. 

My other son is a 17year old. The rules are different. The stakes are higher. And the boys are bigger with a hell of a lot more adrenaline and aggression. 

On Mothers Day this year, my 17yr old was playing at the same time as my little guy, and as I could only be at one game at the one time, I went to the youngest son's game. A phone call revealed my older son had been injured and was at the hospital waiting to be seen in emergency. It's not a nice phone call to get. 

After an Xray, an ultrasound and a CT Scan, we were told that my son had a posterior dislocation of the sterno-clavicular joint. Sounds fancy right? Well it is. It's that join between the sternum and the clavicle, and it was pushed in and pressing on his arteries. And his airway (he was having trouble breathing). It's quite rare to have this happen, in fact there have been less than 100 reported cases since 1824. Thankfully we were in the hands of amazing orthopaedic surgeons, cardiovascular surgeons, cardio thoracic, and beautiful caring nurses of Royal Prince Alfred. 

One doctor told me our son was extremely lucky. The injury was such that it could only have been caused through excessive force (think of those adrenaline, testosterone 17 year old boys), and that had it have been one centimetre to the left, his spine would have been snapped. A centimetre higher, and his neck would have been snapped, and any more force, it could have severed his artery and I would no longer have my beautiful boy. 

I waited three hours for him to come out of recovery from surgery, and then I called the club to let them know he wouldn't be playing for the rest of the season. If I had my way, he wouldn't be playing ever again. The club's manager really didn't care, or he hadn't been versed in customer service. He disputed that an incident took place because the referee and the linesmen didn't report it. Even when I asked about the incident report (because lets face it, a child leaves the field in an ambulance, surely an incident report must have been completed), he still denied there was an incident because.... the referee didn't record it. 

So I went to the NSW NRL. And here's where it got really interesting. They did their job - calling me as soon as they read my email with expressions of concern. And then they gathered some reports from the referees and linesmen. 

And they wrote me a letter. 

They considered this an "accident" that can happen from time to time in a game like rugby. 

The referee and linesmen reported nothing untoward during that game that they could recollect. 

Both clubs had been approached for comments. 

They also included in the letter the regulatory accreditations of the referees, linesmen, groundsmen, water boys etc. (But failed to confirm if the people on the field were actually accredited).

They were happy for me to provide some solutions on how to make the game safer. 

Here's where I'm torn. 

The way to make this game safer for my children is for them not to play. Ever. Because  according to the team at NSW NRL who have the power to educate and make our kids safe are happy with - "accidents like this happen from time to time"

Because teenage boys are big and they are allowed to jump on a player holding a ball even after the referee has called "held"

Because referees are normal people who sometimes miss an "illegal tackle".

Because even after a referee has called held, and then supposedly does not see another big teenage boy jump on the back of a player already on the ground holding a ball yet gives the penalty kick, cannot remember an "incident". 

Because even if a player is taken to hospital in an ambulance, has two surgeries, the club manager doesn't even have the courtesy to ask how a member of his club is. 

Because I am very lucky and grateful that I still have my son. 

My son is now lying in a hospital bed again after getting a post surgical infection. This is his final year of high school and this will be his third week off school due to this incident. Oops, I mean "accident which can happen from time to time". His HSC is not looking great. 

He has lost his social surroundings, a sport that he loves and to me it seems he has lost motivation. 

To say I am slightly angry at the sport, and the response we have been given is an understatement. And yet I am still torn about my younger son and when I should pull him out of the game. 

Young Dying Mum needs your help.

There was a moment in my day today when the universe stood still - if only for a second. My heart stopped beating, the clouds stopped moving and everyone around me walked and talked in slow motion. And then it clicked back into place and my mind was racing. 

What can I do? How can I help? How much time? Shit. Shit. Shit. 

The word "shit" just kept going around and around in my head and eventually it was the only word I could say. 

My friend. My lovely young friend. A struggling single mother of a beautiful pre-teen boy was no longer in remission. All I could say was "shit". 

Her son was likely to be burying her before testosterone managed his teenage life; sadly she would be the second parent he's buried, and it broke my heart. There is no guarantee life is meant to be fair, but "shit" - this isn't in the playbook either. 

After collecting my thoughts and my struggle with more than one word, I managed to ask her if she were given a cheque for something tangible, what would she spend it on. 

She would like to take her son on an 'around the world trip' to share some magical moments together in some magical places. 

And that's when I realised how I could help. 

Travelling is the lolly of my life. I could relate to her wish for one last "hoorah" exploring places with the most important person in her life. Even knowing the risks of her medical condition and knowing that no travel insurance company would likely insure her.... I thought her wish was fantastic and totally appropriate. 

So here's my public pledge. I am going to help make this happen. 

In August, our sons rugby team are going to hold a Trivia night in the inner city (Sydney) to raise money to send them on an amazing adventure. A gorgeous medical friend has offered to help repatriate her (if something happens while she is away) and I can assist in writing her travel/medical emergency response plan for her holiday. 

Here is where the universe answers. I need prizes to auction. Her cause needs exposure. I need a contact for affordable accommodation. I need an airline to offer flights. I need kind people to reach into their hearts and donate money. I need a miracle to pull this idea off. 

If you can help, or know of anyone who can help, please pass on my details. 

Time is of the essence.