- Christine suffered a serious spinal injury after tripping on chicken wire in her garden
- After 12 weeks of being fed through a tube, Christine began intensive rehabilitation before standing unaided six months after her fall
- Just weeks before the accident, Peter had proposed and, despite her wheelchair, Christine and Peter married in May
Here Christine Olsen-Lane, 72, Tin Can Bay, Qld shares her own story in her own words
Sun shining on my face, I wiped the sweat from my brow.
It was mid-morning on August 18, 2025, at our home in Tin Can Bay, Qld, and my partner Peter, then 73, and I were tidying the garden.
Grabbing a pile of cuttings in my gloved hands, I passed them over the fence to Peter, who was loading them into the car for the tip.
‘It looks great!’ I cheered.
As I turned for another armful, my left foot caught on chicken wire we’d been using to mend the fence.
In an instant, I was falling.
A burst of pain exploded as the right side of my head slammed into our outdoor hot water system.
READ MORE: Wedding nightmare: My insides were stuck together with tape
‘Call an ambulance!’ Peter yelled to our neighbours, who were outside, as he rushed to my side.
Everything had happened so fast that I hadn’t been able to put my hands out to break my fall.
Face down, blood trickling from my head, panic set in when I realised I couldn’t feel my hands or feet.
Within minutes, paramedics arrived and rushed me to Gympie Hospital, with Peter following behind.
X-rays revealed damage to my third, fourth and fifth vertebrae, and doctors explained I needed emergency surgery.
I was transferred to Sunshine Coast University Hospital via ambulance, where surgeons fused my damaged spine with screws and plates. I also needed eight stitches to close my head wound.
For the next three weeks I was in intensive care, before I was moved to the spinal rehabilitation ward.
There, I gradually became more alert, but one thing was clear.
I still couldn’t move my hands or feet…
‘We believe the fall aggravated an old neck injury,’ doctors explained.
I’d hurt it diving into a pool 50 years earlier.
‘Your vertebrae was already deteriorating, so we had to act quickly. If the injury had worsened, you could have become a quadriplegic, or even died.’
Peter squeezed my hand as tears filled my eyes.
READ MORE: Park run wedding: We tied the knot after our morning jog
Just four weeks earlier, he’d proposed during a trip to Singapore, after eight wonderful years together.
Now I couldn’t even feed myself. Unable to swallow because the muscles in my throat were paralysed, I was fed through a tube.
When I was thirsty, nurses would dampen a small sponge so I could slowly let water trickle down my throat.
For 12 long weeks, I had time to think about my situation and try to summon all my strength.
When the feeding tube was finally removed and I was able to speak, I made a vow. ‘I’m going to walk,’ I told Peter.
‘I can’t wait to see it,’ he smiled.
I began physio immediately. And although my hands remained numb, I focused on strengthening my legs, practising sitting and standing using a special adjustable rehabilitation chair.
READ MORE: My husband forgot I was his wife so we wed twice
Every day I pushed myself. If therapists asked for 100 repetitions, I’d do 101. ‘One for luck!’ I’d grin.
Peter stayed nearby at Wishlist House –accommodation available for patients’ families and carers – so he could support me through every rehabilitation session.
Gradually, I progressed to completing 1500 sit-to-stands on the rehab chair.
Six months after my fall, I stood unaided for the first time.
Then, in March 2026, I took my first step.
Everyone in the room burst into tears.
‘You’re amazing!’ Peter cheered.
Recovery was exhausting, but Peter and the rehabilitation team kept my spirits high.
‘Let’s still get married,’ Peter said in March.
‘Nothing would make me happier,’ I replied.
When staff heard about our wedding plans, we decided to throw a hens’ party in the rehab ward.
‘Everyone’s invited,’ I laughed.
The fifth floor courtyard at the hospital soon filled with doctors, nurses, fellow patients, family and friends.
Between my rehabilitation sessions, we planned our big day. Unable to go dress shopping myself, my good friend Pam tried on dresses for me and sent me photos.
I ended up with 15 bridesmaids – my sister Margaret, 78, my granddaughters Emma, 17, and Grace, 15, Pete’s three granddaughters, Chloe, 14, Bella, 13, and Layla,
eight, as well as friends from Tin Can Bay, nursing staff, and even the head spinal doctor!
On May 9, ‘Stand By Me’ by Ben E. King played as I rolled down the aisle at Caloundra Power Boat Club in my wheelchair.
Pearl letters spelling BRIDE decorated the back of my chair instead of a veil. Wearing a navy lace dress, I was escorted by my sons, Rod, 47, and Ian, 46.
But my eyes never left Peter, waiting for me in his grey suit.
As we exchanged vows, I rose from my wheelchair to kiss my new husband.
The room erupted into cheers. We’d kept my progress a secret from our 100 guests, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
But the surprises didn’t stop there. The staff at Sunshine Coast University Hospital booked us into the rehabilitation unit’s independent living apartment for our wedding
night.
When we opened the door, party lights, balloons, streamers and heart decorations covered the room. It was magical.
In July, 11 months after my fall, I rang the rehab ward’s bell to celebrate finally going home.
‘Thank you, everyone,’ I said through tears.
Back home, Peter helps me get out of bed, shower and into my wheelchair.
I’m still doing physio and plan to start RoboFit therapy using a neuro-controlled exoskeleton to help me walk. Progress is slow, but every day I grow a little stronger.
After everything we’ve been through, I’ve learned never to take a single step for granted.
Every single one I take is a miracle, and I plan to keep moving forward.
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Share this post