A heartfelt message on rheumatic fever
Matt Johnson carries a constant reminder of the hardships he’s been through – and it’s not the 30cm scar down the middle of his chest.
Nobody likes awkward silences. But for Johnson, the empty air brings with it more than just a sense of social anxiety.
Every time a room falls silent, you can hear his pain.
‘‘ Thud, click, tick. That’s the one thing that I hate, I hate the quiet,’’ he said.
The ticking comes from a mechanical valve placed in Johnson’s chest after a 19- hour operation in June left him in an induced coma for six days.
It ultimately forced the 26-year-old to call curtains on his budding rugby career.
It’s been almost four months to the day the former Blues midfielder underwent his third openheart surgery, and he’s only just coming to terms with his new normal.
‘‘Life is good at the moment, I’m happy to be alive,’’ he said.
‘‘It was a tough road for a long time there . . . Now I’m physically good, mentally a lot better and other than the ticking in my chest, I’m OK.’’
His journey to recovery began long before his latest stint at Auckland City Hospital – with a simple ‘‘scratchy throat’’ at just 13.
‘‘I wasn’t even that sick back then, just a bit [ of a] sniff and a cough like any kid had.
‘‘I got knocked out in a junior footy game and, as you do, went to the doctor’s afterwards to get checked out.’’
While medical staff were going through concussion protocols they noticed ‘‘ a murmur’’ on Johnson’s heart.
He was diagnosed with rheumatic fever, and underwent heart surgery just days later.
Rheumatic fever kills, on average, 130 New Zealanders every year. Ma¯ori and Pacific people make up 95 per cent of the cases.
Unhealthy and overcrowded living conditions are the key contributors.
Heart
Foundation medical director Dr Gerry Devlin said rheumatic fever affects New Zealand’s most vulnerable communities and is an ‘‘entirely preventable childhood infection’’.
Last week Labour announced it would spend $55 million to combat rheumatic fever and unhealthy homes. Johnson welcomed the news. ‘‘I never wanted to be the face of rheumatic fever . . . but I want people to know and understand how serious it is and how big a problem this is in New Zealand,’’ he said.
‘‘Now, I’m good. But I have a constant reminder of how lucky I am and how easily it could’ve all gone the other way for me.’’
Other high- profile athletes have been forced to retire due to the effects of rheumatic fever, including Otago’s Buxton Popoali’i and Crusaders midfielder Robbie Fruean.
These days, a healthy Johnson is still involved with the game he loves. He works with Counties Manukau Rugby as part of their coaching staff, and still gets those pre-game nerves.
But if you see him tapping a pen in a meeting, that’s to mask the noise from his chest.
He is grateful for his profes
sional career, even if it was brief. After all, he was told after his first surgery he would never play rugby again.
But the Aucklander’s determination pushed him through and he went on to carve out a successful career both domestically and across Australia and the UK.
For two years upon returning to New Zealand, Johnson managed to play at one of the highest levels in professional sport while functioning at just 15 per cent of normal blood flow.
During lockdown, his luck ran out and his condition worsened.
‘‘I started having fevers, chills and [muscle] tightness, I just didn’t feel like myself.’’
Testing eventually identified a growth on Johnson’s heart that needed immediate surgery.
After almost a week in a coma, he emerged a different man.
‘‘I felt like I had lost my identity ... I was so skinny, weak. I hadn’t been that light since probably intermediate school.’’
Re-learning how to walk was an emotional struggle and a reality check.
‘‘This disease should not be in New Zealand, but it is, and it’s a real problem,’’ he said.
‘‘My message is pretty simple, if you have a sore throat, go get it checked out. It could save your life.’’