It was meant to be the adventure of a lifetime. In early December 2025, Seb Stockdale had just landed in Japan on his first solo overseas trip – a working holiday and a snowboarding dream. But it soon became clear that something wasn’t right.

“I was over there for about maybe two weeks before I started getting like symptoms of anaemia, just really fatigued and every day I just be able to do less and less.” That turned into nausea, vomiting, and a complete loss of appetite. Then a cyst under his arm became an abscess which required draining at a Japanese medical clinic, followed by IV antibiotics. “After a few days one of the doctors said I looked quite pale and did a blood test.” The following day Seb learned he was dangerously anaemic, and his platelet count was nine. It should have been 180.

That day, Seb was taken to a hospital in Sapporo, about an hour and a half away. “They ran some more tests and then the haematologist came and saw me and basically just said that they found signs of leukaemia.”

The medical team gave him blood and platelets to get him stable enough to fly. “Mum actually came over to fly back with me which was great ‘cause I had someone to talk to.”

Back in Australia, Seb was taken straight to the Gold Coast hospital where further tests revealed a diagnosis of Acute Myeloid Leukemia with FLT-3 mutation, a rare and fast-growing form of blood and bone marrow cancer.

“I need a bone marrow transplant, or it will just keep coming back no matter how many times they get rid of it,” says Seb. Dad Graeme puts a finer point on it: “He will not survive unless we find a stem cell donor.”

For now, Seb needs to get through three rounds of chemotherapy and prepare for transplant. The transplant means he needs a donor match needs to be found, and the family are appealing to people aged 18-35 worldwide to have their blood tested to see if they are a match, and to register on the Bone Marrow Register.

It’s not a matching blood type but a search for a blood donor who has six DNA markers that exactly match Seb’s. Sadly, no one in the Stockdale family has a strong enough match. ‘It’s not just about being related,” says Jen.

If your blood sample is found to be a match, the next part of the donation process is far less intense than most people imagine. “You go to your local hospital or Blood Bank or whatever and they’ll just give you party pies, sausage rolls and milkshakes and you just sit there while they take a larger than average blood donation.” No needles in the hip or anything gruesome as maybe have been used in times gone by.

After that, the stem cells are separated from the blood and used to create new bone marrow, and Seb’s old bone marrow is removed. “Then they inject that new bone marrow into Seb’s empty bones,” says Jen.

If you’re nervous about needles, there are other ways to join the register. “You can actually order a mouth swab through the mail… if you’re anaemic you know you can do the mouth swab as well. It’s obviously not the best but yeah, they definitely accept that as well.”

Locally, the Lifeblood donor centre in Lismore even knows Seb’s name. “You can say I’m doing it for Seb Stockdale and then just put it to his tally so he knows that there are lots of people out there thinking of him,” says Jen.

Seb’s already gone through one intense month of chemo. The family all shaved their heads in solidarity for Seb’s journey. He’s home briefly, before heading back in for the next round. When the time is right, he’ll be admitted to the Royal Brisbane hospital for the transplant and recovery, which will take another three and a half months. “So when he gets inducted into the Royal Brisbane hospital, they call the donor that they found as the match,” says Jen.

The best outcomes come from younger donors, which is why the register focuses on people aged 18 to 35. “Basically, the older stem cells, the harder it is for his body to integrate,” says Jen

Herald readers will remember the Stockdales as the well-loved family behind the Stockpot Kitchen, a hugely popular southern-style eatery that was a crowd favourite operating out of the Bangalow Bowlo for a number of years.

Known for its slow-cooked meats and smoky flavours it brought a welcoming, community-focused vibe to town. After years in Bangalow, the Stockpot Kitchen moved to Lismore, where it continues to serve up its signature hospitality even through the tough times. Like so many in our region, the family faced the devastating 2022 floods with resilience, rolling up their sleeves to help rebuild the town they now call home.

Now they are asking you to roll up your sleeve, literally.

Readers with kids or grandkids in the 18–35-year-old age bracket are encouraged to have a conversation with their young people about giving a blood sample and joining the Bone Marrow Register. They might just save a life.

For more information, visit lifeblood.com.au

Sally Schofield

For autistic individuals, young and old, and those with ADHD or other sensory profiles, the festive season can be less about cheer and more about managing discomfort – with a side serving of overwhelming smells and small talk.

So, with some practical strategies (and a little empathy), here’s how to make Christmas a little more inclusive for those with unique sensory needs. It may not be a Silent Night, but with a few tweaks, you’ll get through with a little less stress and a bit more calm.

Predictability is a present

Surprises might be part of the season for some, but for many ND people, routine and predictability are essential. Wrapped gifts with unknown contents can cause anxiety. A simple solution is to write a clue on the tag or give a heads-up about the gift. Even better, gift cards can avoid any discomfort altogether. If you or your child prefer to open gifts privately, feel free to let others know.

Plan your quiet place

Whether you’re visiting someone else’s home or hosting, make sure there’s a calm space to retreat to when needed – a shady verandah, a quiet room, or even the car. Pack a sensory survival kit: comfort items, fidgets, headphones, sunglasses – whatever helps soothe and regulate. Show kids where the quiet space is and how to access it. Always ask the host before wandering through their house to find it.

Eat your way

Festive food traditions can be delightful – or a sensory nightmare. If you or your child find certain textures, flavours or smells difficult, bring your own food. There’s no need to explain or apologise. Let kids serve themselves if possible. If that ends up being plain pasta or chicken nuggets, that’s perfectly fine. It’s about comfort, not conformity.

Minimise the small talk

Chatting with extended family or acquaintances can be tiring. It’s okay to stick to brief greetings like “Merry Christmas” or “Lovely to see you” and then gracefully step away. There’s also no rule that says you have to hug or kiss relatives. Teach children they can wave, high-five or fist bump if that feels more comfortable.

Know your limits

Increased sensory input, disrupted routines and social overload can lead to shutdowns or meltdowns. Give yourself and your loved ones grace. Ready-to-cook meals are your friend. You don’t need to serve a traditional spread – festive paper plates with favourite foods work just as well.

Don’t overcommit to social events. One gathering may be plenty. Plan recovery days between activities. Give children time to unwind with drawing, gaming, pets or their favourite show. Quiet time isn’t a luxury – it’s essential.

A neurodivergent-friendly Christmas is one where consent, flexibility and personal comfort take priority over tradition or expectations. This season, let’s choose calm over chaos and joy over pressure

Sally Schofield

The most common conditions for which medicinal cannabis products are prescribed by a doctor are insomnia, chronic pain, anxiety, pain from cancer treatment, even childhood epilepsy. The website of the Therapeutic Goods Administration (TGA) lists the conditions for which it has approved the use of medicinal cannabis products.

Born in Malaysia – a country with heavy anti-drug policies – Jit trained at Monash University in the 1990s, moving to Bangalow with his family in 2006. When the pharmacist in Brunswick Heads retired six years ago, Jit took over his practice. Once medicinal cannabis products were approved four years ago, he began dispensing them from that pharmacy, finding that, “those years were a good learning curve for me, especially having come from a country where there was so much stigma and misinformation. I was very skeptical at first.”

When a shop around the corner became available, he decided toopen in a separate space called The Little Dispensary, to service local customers and patients exclusively. “The business had grown and it became hard to contain it within the pharmacy. Unlike conventional medications offering, say, standardised pills, it’s quite involved with these products. Because there’s so much stigma and myths surrounding cannabis, you need to be able to provide patients with education and the right information. You need extra time to be able to offer patients proper focus and service. Education is a big part of my work.”

The main form of the mostly Australian-made cannabis products are pre-prepared oils, as well as the buds of cannabis flowers. Using the flower buds comes with a caveat. “We discourage using the buds to roll a joint, but do encourage using a dry herb vapouriser,” he explained. “It gently heats the flower buds, extracting and activating the volatile oil, so that you inhale the vapours. The compounds then get absorbed via the lungs, much like how Ventolin (for asthmatics) gets absorbed. It is a safer and healthier way than combustion.”

The products are vastly different to e-cigarettes, he stresses. “It is not the same as ‘vaping’ because there are no solvents involved.” On the other hand, the oils are administered orally, under the tongue to facilitate quicker absorption before swallowing. There are also capsules or tablets, though not commonly used. (If you were wondering, when the right dose is administered, patients don’t get high or stoned on these products.)

You can’t simply walk into the shop and buy any of these products: a proper screening and a doctor’s prescription is required. All medical cannabis products dispensed via prescription are legal and regulated by the TGA, which, from 1 July 2023, requires those products to meet Good Manufacturing Practice (GMP) and the very stringent TGA standards (TGO-93) with regard to quality and pesticide levels, for instance. Again, the TGA website spells out more details, and Jit and his staff are happy to take enquiries.

Jit has spoken at medical conferences on De-Stigmatising Cannabis, including one held at Bangalow’s A&I Hall earlier this year. “There is stigma, and mis-information around how to use these products. At the end of the day, the aim of medical cannabis treatment is that we want to bring balance back to the endo-cannabinoid system, to bring back homeostasis, or the balance of your internal hormonal systems.”

Formerly a florist shop, Jit completely redesigned the shop to suit its new function. A spotted gum counter made by a Possum Creek woodworker is topped with unusual, solid pale green hempcrete. Jit is very happy with the teams he has operating both the pharmacy and the dispensary. “I’m blessed and fortunate to have them,” he says.

For more information on Medicinal Cannabis for consumers refer to the TGA website tga.gov.au

The son of Vietnamese refugees had been a heroin user for 25 years, since smoking it with his peers in the southwest of Sydney as a young teenager, then using it more frequently to come down after increasingly lengthy ‘weekends’ of partying and recreational drug taking. In time it became the centre of his life, costing him $1000 a day.

Against the stereotype image of a drug addict, Bill (not his real name), maintained a demanding job throughout his adult years, and never injected – both of which he says contributed to an illusion of control and even respectability, and prolonged his using time.

In every other way, Bill typifies the addict’s experience: powerlessness, obsession and compulsion, secrecy and deceit; the camaraderie of the early days on the streets of Cabramatta replaced by isolation and an inability to maintain or invest in relationships.

Nobody knew what he was up to. Not his parents, brother or workmates – another quirk of addiction; as long as its hidden, your own little secret, then you feel as if you’re somehow getting away with it, he says.

But it was unsustainable: the quantities he needed soared, way beyond his earning power; his work started to suffer and the ducking and diving became exhausting.

Bill went into one rehab after another, sometimes trying to ease the horrors of withdrawal by smuggling in his own secret stash – on one occasion cocaine, on another Suboxone (an opioid blocker).

After one of the worst withdrawals of his life – lying on the shower floor with the water pouring on him, racked with vomiting and diarrhoea – he committed to heading north to Binna Burra, way outside of his comfort zone, to the warm embrace of The Buttery.

‘The Butt’, much loved in recovery circles in the Northern Rivers and beyond, and fondly known as “the Rehab up the road”, turns 50 this year, a remarkable achievement for an institution that deals with some of the most misunderstood and shunned members of society – and some of the most difficult to treat: alcoholics, addicts of every description, and people suffering mental illness.

In that time, The Buttery has gone from a visionary Christian’s idea of a haven for troubled young people, a drop-in refuge based on kindness and few rules, to a sophisticated therapeutic community with clear, firm expectations and boundaries, offering a range of programs adopted to fit the ever-changing climate of substance use and mental health.

“We haven’t stood still,” says the current CEO, Leone Crayden, “and sadly there is still a great need for our services.” Way more in fact than in 1973. “There are 90 people on the waiting list at present,” Leone says – in a world in which one day’s delay can mean the difference between life and death.

And while alcohol abuse remains the problem it was 50 years ago, the drug scene has changed wildly, especially since the emergence and widespread uptake of methamphetamines and cocaine.

The Buttery is evolving to meet these changes. In September a post-custodial program will be introduced, and the mental health assistance is ever expanding, with a new drop-in service available seven days a week from 10-6. A doctor is on hand 12 hours a week to offer clinical guidance.

An advisory group consisting of those with lived experience of addiction and recovery, people such as Bill, is in the pipeline.

There is a very diverse board, Leone says, made up of both local people and those from interstate. Although it receives $14 million a year in government grants, it relies on community support and couldn’t survive without it. Leone praises the sympathetic people of the surrounding towns and villages: “It is a true community organisation,” she says.

The Buttery was the brainchild of a visionary Church Army Officer named John McKnight who had a position at Bangalow All Souls Anglican Church. He saw a need for youth services following the influx to the region of young people following the Aquarius Festival, and imagined a Christian community offering refuge and support to those who needed it.

When the old butter factory was offered to him in 1973 he accepted it and moved in.

By 1976, thousands of people were staying every year – often itinerant, drug affected, troubled – proving a colossal strain on Infrastructure and resources.

The need for a more focussed purpose became apparent, and the decision was made to provide a therapeutic community with the specific task of treating drug dependence.

A second accommodation unit was built and staff employed with specific drug counselling skills.

Group therapy was introduced in the 80s and a program developed with rules and guidelines. Behavioural, moral and ethical boundaries became more clearly defined.

The emphasis on Christian beliefs was replaced by the spiritual program found in the 12-Step program laid out by Alcoholics Anonymous and adopted since by dozens of other fellowships helping with myriad addiction disorders.

Aftercare became a consideration, so “graduates” were able to move into one of two half-way houses in Byron Bay and start a normal life in mainstream society while supported by others in recovery and community networks such as Narcotics Anonymous.

Today, residents at The Buttery embark on a standard program involving group and individual therapy and education, living skills instruction and stress management training, art therapy and orientation to the ‘12 Step’ philosophy.

Bill is one of 2500 residents offered these healing services this year and like many of them, he was initially untrusting, reluctant – perhaps unable – to know and express with any honesty how he was feeling, what his true thoughts were.

Honesty, willingness and open-mindedness are the key ingredients in a therapeutic community, and Bill learnt how to practise these. The result is he is on his way to becoming a useful, productive member of society. He regularly returns to The Buttery now, to give back, by sharing his experience and wisdom with residents. He will be part of the anniversary celebrations this month.

The past can be healed: Bill tells of his brother driving his aged parents up to visit him – of his father’s habitual hardness dissolving in a hug – and his own ability to be present for them now.

There’s a long way to go, but the transformation is well under way: the gilded cage of a high paying job has lost some of its power; Sydney itself is not so alluring. He is happy now to take time to discover who he really is.

Leone Crayden emphasises that not everyone who comes to The Buttery stays. People drop out, for a host of reasons. “Some people’s lives have been lost,” she says.

Amidst the anniversary celebrations there will be a moment of silence for those who passed through the doors but either left early or couldn’t maintain recovery and died.

Those who come to The Buttery and stay have a better chance than most.

Fiji, a Pacific paradise synonymous with palm trees, beaches, and warm hospitality, is home to numerous six-star resorts. One such resort is Namotu Island, “about the size of the Bangalow sportsfields” and just 10 minutes from one of the world’s most alluring surf spots, Cloudbreak. The resort attracts many affluent tourists who come for the watersports and wellbeing, and the property is staffed predominantly by Fijians who travel to work from Nabila, a nearby village of around 250 people.

Nabila has been without a doctor for over five years. Medical treatment for the entire village has been carried out competently and with great care by nurse Merewai, now in her 60s.

While Namotu Island resort has its own medical service the staff can access, staff often work 24 days straight and then have four days off, “which is all the time they have to pursue their own health concerns,” says Michelle. Nabila is two hours from Nadi, the capital of Fiji. Transport is difficult, and work, family commitments, and cost mean many people don’t make the journey to seek the medical attention they need.

The idea for an Outreach Clinic emerged after Leena, who works as a volunteer yoga instructor and medic at Namotu, spent a night in Nabila and became aware of the significant needs there. This led to a discussion with Namotu Island resort managers who agreed to fund an Outreach Health Clinic for the village. This was the first step in making the clinic at reality. But awareness of culturally appropriate care was a high priority for the team.

“You can’t just rock on in (though many Westerners think they have license to),” says Michelle. “You must get permissions and partake in a Sebu Sebu ceremony, which is where the village chief and elders welcome you, and you make your offering to the village. In our case, it was our services and a massive amount of medical equipment, consumables and medication.”

Building a connection with the community was a crucial step to the success of the Outreach Clinic. “Taking things slowly was so important for relationship building, and developing safe, culturally appropriate care provision to the community,” says Michelle. “When the villagers realised that we were treating their families who were working at the resort, they said ‘Oh, could you please see us as well because we just haven’t had a chance?’” adds Meera.

“Nurse Merewai set us up a couple of rooms in the town hall. We had a bit of a triage system out the front to assess the urgency of the patients. We also had a little surgicaloperating area and a small pharmacy with lot of our own medication and equipment,” she says.

Some patients had minor injuries or conditions, but others were in the form of chronic but manageable illnesses that can be easily treated with appropriate prescription medicines, all of which were previously out of reach for the average villager. Priceline Pharmacy in Byron donated some medications for the trip, and Byron Bay Eyecare (owned by Bangalow’s Steve and Belle Brady) donated pre-loved prescription glasses for the villagers. “We saw a lot of people with undiagnosed diabetes or high blood pressure,” says Irfaan. “There were also many people who were overweight or obese, from consuming highly processed, high sugar Western foods rather than eating the typical Fijian diet like fish and cassava root.”

“We gave about 20 people a Boostrix injection for tetanus because people were getting reef cuts on their feet that were badly infected, and they just kept walking around working,” says Meera. “Nurse Merewai was basically holding the village together in terms of health care,” says Meera. “She has a little clinic with a bed in it, no fan, no electricity, and often no running water.”

“The health burden, particularly with diabetes and resultant advanced complications, is more than any one person can manage,” adds Michelle.

“After the clinics in the morning, we would run health education programs, women’s business one day, men’s business another day. We did geriatric health, managing muscle aches and pains, gentle exercise and stretches, and things like fall prevention. For the women, we talked about contraception and breast checks,” says Meera.

The pilot program appears to have been a success for the medical team and patients alike. “They had a cava ceremony for us, and we were all crying the day we left,” says Meera. “They are a proud community, so welcoming and joyous. Crowded living conditions, poor sanitation, waste services and limited access to quality water produce some fundamental challenges to maintaining good health,” says Michelle.

The Outreach team hope to return to the island in 2024, and that their clinic will serve as a case study that will inspire other luxury resorts to re-invest in their local community’s health. “If a pilot like this works, it’s feasible that these big resorts in developing countries can do this for their staff,” says Irfaan.

For more information about the outreach visit namotuislandfiji.com/blog/nabila-medicaloutreach loveleena.com.au/medicine If you would like to help in future outreaches, please get in touch with Dr Leena Zhou on hello@loveleena.com.au

Sally Schofield

Terry’s Christmas story

Santa delivered more than a few presents to our house on Christmas Day. Along with my wife, Trish, and myself, 22 family members contracted COVID at our Christmas lunch…we couldn’t blame the prawns for that! Cases were gradually revealed over the next few days, with symptoms being mild or non-existent. Everyone was vaccinated, and no one arrived at our house knowingly having symptoms. A few family members work in retail, and it is likely a customer or staff member shared the love a little too enthusiastically and handed it over with their credit card. I am immune-compromised, and after 15 days, I still test positive, despite being invited out of isolation by Government text at day seven. My symptoms returned, and I have re-entered isolation (at the time of writing) to wait it out. Our initial symptoms included fatigue, headaches, raspy throat and elevated temperature. Later symptoms are mainly fatigue and a mild, chesty productive cough. COVID is a nuisance, but only because of vaccines. Without the vax, it would be disastrous. Aided by an abundance of information out there, most vaxxed people have little to fear. Good old common sense is the best antidote for dealing with COVID, the same common sense that led to getting vaxxed in the first place. Terry

The isolation of COVID

My initial reaction to testing positive was OH SHIT! Because I had only done a test two days previous (it did feel a little like a pregnancy test but had more chance of wind pollination, ha ha!) At first, I felt dirty, my house felt dirty. I thought: God, I don’t want anyone to know about this and I will just hide. Then I thought… when have you ever hidden from anything? So, no, I am loud and proud and one of the cool COVID kids now. The first 72 hours was the worst. I experienced a tight chest, was clammy, had night sweats and extreme tiredness. I had a very congested chest due to previous asthma and chest infections. I have to say, I was a little afraid. I couldn’t breathe properly, and living on my own was of a concern to me. I am vaccinated twice over. Now due to me having had COVID, I have to wait six weeks after feeling well and having a negative test to be eligible to have my booster shot. Being in lockdown is one thing. You can still go out for a walk, to the beach and exercise. Being in total isolation is another. The most challenging part of having this at home is being alone. I live in a small studio, and it feels very isolated. The days are long and the nights even longer. The hardest, I think, was Saturday morning… it’s market day, and it’s my favourite day of the week. But the unconditional love and support from people in our community has been amazing. Angela and her team at the Bangalow Pharmacy delivered medicine to me, and friends delivered food and supplies. Pip from the Bangalow Cellars did a delivery for the Irish medicinal needs… Andrea

Parenting with COVID

My husband tested positive first, so he isolated away from the rest of the family in a separate room. With young children who don’t understand, I quickly started to hope I would get it (as bad as that sounds) so that I didn’t have to isolate with them for seven days while also trying to keep them away from their dad! I tested positive the following day, and the kids (aged one and five) after that. Our main concern was that we had been at a small gathering a few days beforehand, and we felt tremendous guilt about possibly exposing our friends (some with other health issues). Community support has been nothing short of amazing. Every person we told offered to bring us food, we had soup and brownies left at our door, and my lovely mum did our groceries for us. The kids were only very mildly unwell, but my husband and I were quite unwell for two to three days; fevers, chills, shakes, sweating, sore throat, headaches… which is made 100 times worse with having young children around that still need to be fed, supervised and entertained. My sense of smell is still a bit intermittent. My husband works in the hospitality industry and generally works a lot over Christmas/New Year, so, as unwell as we were, it was nice to have some quality family time together. We are double vaxxed and will be getting our booster shots when we are eligible. I support vaccination and believe we need to do what we can to protect those who may be more susceptible to suffering complications from the virus. Lucy.

Preparing for the inevitable

I sort of had in the back of my mind that I was going to test positive as it’s been years since I had a cold, so for being sick at this time of year I was thinking maybe it was COVID. I didn’t really panic, I just went and got tested at Byron Hospital. For me, it was a light head cold with nasal drip causing a tickle in the throat. I got onto the Betadine gargle, so no sore throat and no temperature but I was sneezy for a couple of days. My ears got a bit blocked and lost smell and taste, and I guess still nearly three weeks later I’m slowly getting my taste and smell back. But overall, the main symptoms lasted, say, five days. The only scary part was wondering how sick I was going to get, basically the unknown and all the hype we have endured over the past two years.

I am double vaxxed and get a booster in March. I am not antivax in any way. I’m alive today because of childhood vaccinations like most people. I have underlying health issues as far as I had a heart valve replaced last year also a section of lung removed, leftover from cancer I had 10 years ago, but generally I live a healthy lifestyle. There was no stigma with having COVID, I told everyone I had been in contact with, and they were sorry, but not upset with me whatsoever. The only challenge was being isolated as I live alone and food was an original worry but people rallied for me. It was fairly easy, really. I was just happy it was a mild event but I still worry when I go out and about as people are so blasé not wearing masks. Blah, blah. It’s very frustrating. I also got a call from a triage nurse the same day a doctor from Bangalow Medical Centre informed me I was positive. The nurse took all my details and said I would get a phone call everyday as I was in the high-risk category but I got absolutely no support or calls from anyone. Name withheld.

Sarah’s Sydney souvenir

We’d just returned from Sydney after visiting family over the Christmas period, where we no doubt picked up COVID. We came home to our very small rental in Bangalow, a three-bed villa (which also doubles as my husband’s office – he sits in the corner of the lounge room). The living areas are open plan but there is minimal opportunity for proper flow through ventilation. One of the biggest challenges for us was attempting to isolate family members in such a small house, but also trying to look after our younger family members (and three cats) when both of us tested positive and were feeling at our worst. My husband was the first to test positive, followed by me and then shortly afterwards our kids, although we all knew we had it before we had our PCR tests back because we’d driven back from Sydney while my husband was at his most infectious. Although we did make an effort to isolate him when we got home, it really did feel a little bit hopeless! I work at a local hospital, and throughout the pandemic I assumed I’d contract COVID through work, but ironically it was Sydney that got us in the end! Sarah