Laughter is the best medicine

Doddie Weir is taking MND battle in his giant stride

SCOTLAND rugby legend Doddie Weir is up bright and early to check on the sheep on his 300-acre farm. With his wife Kathy by his side, they make sure their flock is okay before coming in for breakfast. After a cup of tea and some toast, Weir goes through his emails to check on the various fundraising events he is due to attend all over the world.

In the kitchen where he works are pictures of him sitting next to Billy Connolly and his wife

Pamela Stephenson at a Motor

Neurone Disease fundraising dinner in Hong Kong. The

Big Yin, fighting his own battle against Parkinson’s disease, finds rugby’s ‘big yin’ inspirational.

Doddie breaks off for a steak pie lunch and is off swimming that afternoon.

He is then due to travel to

Edinburgh before flying to

London for a fundraising dinner. He never stops, and whatever Motor Neurone

Disease has taken from him, it isn’t his energy.

He is the first to admit, though, he can’t fight the toughest battle of his life alone. For instance, from the moment he wakes in the morning he needs help from

Kathy to put his clothes on. ‘Not a pretty sight for her,’ he laughs.

For such a proud man it was hard to initially accept that his wife, and sometimes his three boys, had to help him take his clothes on and off. He struggles with zips and buttons, which is why he spends most of his time at home in tracksuit bottoms.

On his early-morning walks to the fields to check the sheep he sometimes falls over and, as his hands don’t work well: ‘It’s like trying to get up with your hands in your pockets,’ he says.

He used to have cows — ‘big boys for me, I really liked them’ — but had to sell them all because he didn’t have the strength to handle them.

‘If I bring the sheep in I have to watch as the legs are not as active,’ he said. ‘If I am in the pen and a sheep nudges me I might fall over and I have done enough of that of late. That is where my good lady and the kids all help.’

The steak pie and beans lunch with his close friend Stewart Weir, who is no relation, is a jocular affair, with Doddie having to be fed by Kathy. Swimming is more a case of him being able to walk along the pool bottom, but only with the help of swimming aids. ‘I can’t get my hands above my head,’ he says, which makes doing any swimming strokes impossible.

He can still get up the stairs to bed but has had a room developed downstairs to take a bed and a massive television to let him watch the rugby when the time comes that he can’t. He has a specially-designed toilet and wash area that has a full-length walk-in all over dryer for him to go into after his shower.

Through it all he keeps smiling and the positive attitude he shows to the public at various events up at down the country isn’t him simply putting on a face. He really is like that. For all the adversity he faces, Doddie stays positive, both privately and publicly.

The black humour his friends such as ex-Scotland international Gary Armstrong has been involved in has made him laugh loudly and helped him deal with what could be ahead.

‘The rugby public, especially close friends, and the humour they bring my way, is wonderful,’ he said. ‘Gary Armstrong and the kids, the wife, Carl Hogg, they take the mickey out of me.

‘We go past a coffin shop and they ask: ‘Have you got yours ordered yet?’. ‘Can you get one in your tartan?’ I’ve got a good friend in Melrose, Robbie Brown the undertaker, and they ask if I’ve called him to measure me up yet. ‘We put a bid in for an antique tractor a couple of years ago. Myself, Gary and Carl were going to put in x amount of money each. Gary and Carl turned to each other and said it was the best investment they’d ever make because they’d soon be going halfers.

‘It’s the way I like it, that humour. Yes, I’m looking down the barrel of a gun but the team are good and make me laugh which helps a lot.’

Other sufferers of Motor Neurone Disease may give up — and he can understand that attitude as it is a devastating disease.

‘I think sometimes people do hear the news and give up,’ he said. ‘It’s like with rugby: if you don’t get in the team, do you give up your jersey or do you fight? A lot of people do give up on MND on the back of the lack of advice. We’re trying to change that.’

In keeping with that positive attitude he has set two targets, one short term, the other relatively long term, that he wants to fulfil.

‘I promised my boys we’d go on the 2021 Lions tour to South Africa but when this happened we went on the 2017 New Zealand tour instead because the other one might not have been possible. But it still might be possible to go,’ said Doddie.

‘My 50th next year is a bigger goal. It’s on July 4th, the day Scotland play South Africa in the first Test next summer. I’ll be here partying at home. Getting to 50 is definitely a big goal, and seeing another Christmas.

‘Christmas will be different this year because we lost my mother in June and again on the positive thinking, she battled her cancer very well. Later on she gave her engagement ring away to her niece and, as soon as she did that, you could see her head

Yes, I’m looking down the barrel of a gun but the people around me make me laugh and that helps a lot

went down and seven days later she was no longer here.’

The former Scotland and British and Irish Lions second row has confounded initial expectations regarding how long he would stay alive. ‘Overall in relative terms I am alright,’ he said. ‘I can still do 90 per cent of what I did compared to a couple of years ago. There are a couple of things I can’t do. It is mostly to do with my strength, like catching a cow or a sheep. I can’t do that anymore.

‘I can’t run the 100 metres but last night I was on the rowing machine in my wee gym outside and on the bike. I can go up the fields on the quad bike.

‘I do run out of steam now and again. I struggle at times to get food into my mouth and with buttons. I struggle to get clothes off and on. The family has to help, Kathy in particular, a bit more.

‘I can’t tie shoelaces but I have rubber shoelaces so I adapt. See my coffee cup? I drink a lot of coffee out of these travel mugs that have bigger handles. That makes life a lot easier for me.

‘The same with pints. I have got a pint mug like a kids Tommee Tippee cup. I have to remember I have an issue because when I go out drinking with my Tommee Tippee pint glass I have a couple of beers then go onto the wine. A pint of wine isn’t clever.

‘Look, I am not too bad. I hear stories of people who only have a few months with MND and are no longer here. With me I am three years in after diagnosis. Remember, this is a terminal illness.

‘The average life expectancy is between one and three years. That’s the timescale. I am here.

‘We are in a bit of trouble, those of us with MND. We have a terminal illness but we know that. The general chat I got from some doctors when I was diagnosed was we can’t do anything for you. Please just give people a bit of hope.

‘My mindset is to stay away from MND modification. I was asked a wee while ago to put a peg in my tummy. It means I couldn’t then eat and would have been fed through a tube. They suggested I sleep with a bit of air but I said no to both. If I did that I would feel I had given in to MND.’

Weir realises time is not on his side to find a cure. ‘If there’s a drug or a trial, get it out into the working environment and let the humans be the guinea pigs,’ he pleaded. ‘I’m happy for that to happen, I’ve no other option. I’d like to stay around as long as I can.

‘There will be some new research coming out, one from Edinburgh and one from down south, which is exciting. Projects that the foundation is involved in. There are others that we’re involved in but have not been announced yet.’

Tragically, any MND cure came too late for Holland and Rangers midfielder Fernando Ricksen, who saw his final days out at a hospice in Scotland.

‘I saw his documentary, it was incredible,’ said Doddie. ‘The end is there and that’s why we’re trying to develop new treatments now. Has that aim helped us stay in the positive mindset where we are? I think it has.

‘I felt sorry for Fernando, his support team is nothing like what I’ve got. He was staying on his mate’s sofa for a while. I’ve got the amazing team behind me and that might be helping my self-esteem as well. I’ve seen the end, seen it with Fernando. It gives you the fight not to think about it. We’re developing for the end of life. Speaking about it helps your mindset.

‘I have good and bad days but getting out and about also helps although sometimes I get a bit weak. Depends on how many pints of wine I’ve had!

‘Voice-wise, speaking at dinners and in the Murrayfield hospitality helps my diaphragm and my core. My legs are still used getting on and off the motorbike and walking, my arms are weak but I can still do things like steering. I like to eat and drink because it’s all about being sociable, so the gullet and diaphragm are still going.

‘The big issue that I have to judge, and I sometimes don’t get that close, is trying to get up the stairs. I can still manage it, but if I’ve had a couple of drinks too many, I might have to ask for a bit of help. Going away to dinners is good because you can generally get a lift to your floor to drink a bit more.’

Like any parent, it was hard telling his children he had MND and having them watch as he deteriorates. You can tell talking to him how proud he is of his boys and how he will never forget presenting the match ball before the Scotland v New Zealand match at BT Murrayfield with all three by his side.

‘My youngest Ben is 15 and has been playing Borders Under-16s with Gregor Townsend’s second son, Luke. Hamish is 18, Angus is 17. They’re all 6ft 2in or 6ft 3in. The older one is a bit more outgoing so he does quite a lot of the dinners and, from a father’s point of view, it’s quite nice.

‘You see the development and confidence. The other two are a bit more shy but they’re still being very helpful at home, and are having to do more to help me than other kids of that age might have to do with their dads. As a family, we’re lucky because we’ve been given this wake-up call. I might have six months left, I might have two years or 10 years, or if we get this cure, I might be around for a long time.

‘When this happened, I’m thinking what boxes are still to tick with the boys? I’ve been fortunate, been involved with rugby and travelled, so there weren’t that many for myself. I’ve pretty much done everything.

‘But it was about ticking boxes for the kids. One was to see them through school and two of them have now left. See them pass their driving test. Two of them are now through. Girlfriends? No ticks!

‘It brings a tear to my eye looking back at some of the things like delivering the ball at the New Zealand game because a lot of it was done with the kids. Things have changed for us all. I had to leave my job in the sewage world last December. That was disappointing because I thoroughly enjoyed it.’

Doddie is still looking to the future with hope and with such a strong family and close friends he will never be alone.

‘I am also still involved on the farm which gives me a purpose and that is what life is all about,’ he added. ‘You need a reason to get up in the morning, a focus, and I also have a focus with the Foundation which is like my new job in trying to raise people’s awareness to MND. We have spent over £4million over two years, Three-and-a-half on research and £500,000 to help people with MND. The support has been amazing.’

When and if his time comes he will be ready and believes God has been on his side up until now. ‘I have been pretty fortunate and without getting too religious I have a bit of belief,’ said Weir.

‘Twenty years ago, I had a car accident near here. I rolled my Land Rover Discovery and the head rest came through the roof, my driver’s door was ripped off, the panel was bent and I walked away.

‘I thought him upstairs was looking for a rugby player but said to himself halfway through my tumble: “Let’s give this boy Doddie a fright, but we don’t want him”.

‘My brother-in-law was a sheep farmer who died aged just 54. Maybe him up there wanted a sheep farmer and then a teenager I know died, so maybe he wanted someone to help with the farm in heaven.

‘With me, he has given me this MND lark but said if you can fix it you can stay, if not you are coming to see me. I am maybe not looking up there for solace but maybe a reason for it all happening.

‘I have never, ever thought: “Why me?”. It has been: “Right, let’s get this MND sorted.”. All I want is one more thing. One new drug for MND. The last drug was 25 years ago. There has been nothing since. Let’s try now and find another.’