Three weeks ago, my life changed in a way I could never have anticipated.

I was the driver in an unavoidable accident when a child on a bicycle entered the road from behind parked cars without any warning. It happened in seconds — the kind of split-second moment that rewrites the direction of two lives at once.

I was the only person at the scene.

Because of my background as a former emergency veterinary nurse with CPR and trauma-response training, instinct took over before my mind could catch up. I immediately checked his breathing, colour, responsiveness, and posture, fully aware that even a well-intentioned movement could cause further injury. I knew what signs to look for, what to avoid, and what to prepare for if his condition changed. I was ready to provide lifesaving intervention if it became necessary before emergency responders arrived.

I called 000 and stayed with him the entire time. I reassured him, monitored his breathing and heart rate, and kept my hand placed where I could feel for changes. When bystanders stopped to help — kind, caring people — I gently asked them not to touch or move him, to avoid worsening any spinal or internal injuries. I wanted the paramedics to arrive to the safest possible situation.

Those minutes felt like hours. When the first paramedic placed a hand on my arm and said, “You’ve done well — we’ve got him now,” the shock finally broke through. Everything I had held together in the moment collapsed at once.

But what has been even more shocking has unfolded in the weeks since.

I have comprehensive car insurance.
My car was mechanically sound — regularly serviced, well maintained, safe, reliable, with recent tyre replacements and no mechanical issues. It was a car I depended on every day, and it had plenty of life left in it.

Yet despite doing everything right — driving safely, sober, alert, and reacting instantly — I am now facing the very real possibility of losing that car completely, with no way to replace it without significant personal cost. No fault of my own, no wrongdoing, no negligence — and yet every consequence lands entirely on me.

And then I discovered something I never expected:

There is absolutely no support system for innocent drivers involved in collisions with children on bicycles — not psychologically, not financially, not legally, and not practically.

I have learned this the hard way:

• There is no path through Victim Assist - this requires a violent crime or DV incident
• No compensation through CTP - as bikes are uninsured and unregistered
• No emergency financial assistance -fire and flood are the basic requirements
• No Centrelink help unless you’ve already been on payments for 26 straight weeks
• No early access to superannuation for psychological trauma or temporary incapacity
• No funded trauma counselling 
• No government support for loss of transport or income
• No insurer accountability because bicycles ridden by minors are unregistered and uninsured - excess "not at fault" payment is currently being "reviewed" by my insurer as they require a car registration to approve the refund

There is no category for what happens to someone like me.
No recognition that the driver is also a victim of the same event.
No safety net to prevent everything in your life from collapsing at once.

Since the accident, I’ve been unable to drive. I’ve had to cancel job interviews. My mental health has suffered significantly. I’m paying for trauma therapy out of pocket (despite having a mental health plan from my GP). And I’m staring down the reality that replacing my car — the one I maintained and cared for — will cost thousands of dollars I simply do not have.

This is why I am speaking up.

No innocent driver should be left completely unsupported, traumatised, financially devastated, and invisible in the aftermath of these incidents.
No one should shoulder the full cost of an accident they did not cause — especially when the system itself leaves them with no possible way to meet the requirements for support.

This petition is the beginning of asking for change.
For recognition.
For a safety net that should exist but doesn’t.
And for a conversation our communities desperately need to have.