Thirteen years ago on a flight to Broken Hill, Belinda Adams’ phone rang. She picked it up and answered, not knowing the horror awaiting her.
Her son, Dylan, had been in a car crash back home. Medical staff told her he was not expected to make it through the night.
It was one of those watershed moments – a line in the sand that changed the Adams family forever.
Ms Adams was desparate to get back to her 19-year-old son, but the next flight to Brisbane wasn’t departing until the next day.
“I couldn’t get home until the next day, but I had this unwavering knowing that he was going to survive,” she said.
“When I arrived the next day, I didn’t leave his side, I just tried to create the most positive environment around him, and not have any negative language that he could hear.”
Dylan listened, and he survived. However, doctors weren’t sure what his future would look like.
Overnight, Ms Adams, once a stay-at-home mother of three, took on the new and unexpected role of primary carer for her son.
The care Dylan received from hospital staff was amazing, Ms Adams said. But when he returned home, there were few resources available for his recovery to continue, and the responsibility was left to his family.
“We were basically left to our own devices,” she said.
“You become somewhat of a researcher, and most parents/carers that I know have done the same thing.
“You read books, you look for things online, there’s just not a lot in the community once you go home.”
Through this research, Ms Adams transformed from being an advocate for her son, to an advocate for all brain injury survivors.
With music programs, filmmaking, science and even creating Australia’s biggest beanie, Ms Adams has used her family’s trauma to inspire and lift up others, and was awarded the Medal of the Order of Australia for her efforts last year.
But even before that dreaded flight back in 2012, life wasn’t all calm waters.
The year before Dylan’s injury brought emotional and financial turmoil, as Ms Adams went through a divorce and experienced massive life changes.
She had been a stay-at-home mum, but after the divorce began to build a career in the film industry. Today, she owns a production company, Citrine Sun Entertainment, and continues to work as a crew member on film sets while developing her own film projects.
She has established several programs for survivors of brain injury to help with rehabilitation efforts, foster community, and bring joy into their lives.
In 2024, she received a funding grant from the Heart Foundation to found the organisation NeuroRhythm and run a pilot program, which aimed to assist brain injury survivors in rehabilitation and community connection efforts through music.
The initial program, a five-week Djembe drumming course, was run this year at Loganholme’s Performance Studios, culminating in a performance in front of friends and family.
And in 2021, she partnered with the Hopkins Centre and Queensland Ballet to deliver a program called Ballet for Brain Injury.
“They’re the kinds of programs we need more of, and I know it was something that has been in the spotlight a little bit this year, especially because there was a discussion around the NDIS cutting funding to arts programs,” Ms Adams said.
“I think we’re totally underestimating the value that they hold in people’s mental, physical, and emotional well-being.
“We filmed this whole [NeuroRhythm pilot] program, the progress of the program, so that’s going to be made into a documentary.”
Last year, Ms Adams self-published a book, funded by the local council and state government, about the life-changing experience of having a family member suffer a brain injury.
“I’m also in discussions with someone at the moment about adapting my book into a screenplay, because I want to continue to share the message of not giving up hope.”
Ms Adams said a positive mindset and hope got her through the early days of Dylan’s injury. She didn’t contemplate hypothetical scenarios where Dylan didn’t survive or his recovery stalled.
“Because I truly believe they can hear, and he reacted to things, like me speaking or playing music.
“To see him recover to the level he did was beyond anything that was predicted at the start.”
Ms Adams’ feat don’t stop at health and recovery programs.
In 2017, she hired a bus and drove around Australia to raise awareness for brain injury surivors. When she returned from the cross-country trip, she was overwhelmed by the number of people who reached out to her to share their experiences with a brain injury.
“I thought I was going to go around and distribute books and resources and a message of hope, but people came out to meet me everywhere,” she said.
“People just wanted to share their story and experiences, and were saying similar things like that there are not enough resources, and it often slips through the cracks, because it’s an invisible disability.
“So that’s what drove me to investigate what we could do to fix that? What programs can create a place of connection for people once they’ve returned to the community?”
Last year, Ms Adam, her family, and hundreds of people from across the globe knitted Australia’s biggest beanie to raise even more awareness.
Over the three-month period last year, 3700 squares – 20cm by 20cm each – were posted to Ms Adams and sewn together to make a 12m tall, 22m round beanie.
Now, her documentary about the process is in the running for an international film award.
In all her work, Ms Adams said she wants to share hope with other caregivers – to let them know they’re not alone and that they shouldn’t give up hope.
“I think people feel safe sharing their experiences with me because they know that I do understand, and I’ve shown the cracks of my own life, which is not always easy.
“I do find it emotionally challenging myself sometimes, but I think more than anything, most people I’ve encountered are very much like my son, who are just striving and looking forward; they don’t look back.”
