BREAK YOUR NECK

What it feels like to ...

THE scrum was set. We lost the first two scrums and I was going to do everything I could to make sure we didn’t lose a third. I dropped my right shoulder slightly and shifted to the left to give me the strike advantage. The next thing I remember was lying on the turf with my legs feeling like balloons behind me. I watched as the ball went through the opposition’s hands but I couldn’t get up to chase it. My right arm was under me and wouldn’t move. I wasn’t in pain, but I was struggling to breathe.

My pals Charles Berry and Jack Smart weren’t playing due to injury and kept me going with chat and covered me in blankets. The opposition’s stand-off and winger – Roddy Macleod and Paul Rodgers – were both doctors. They kept me still and reassured me everything would be all right. They knew something was terribly wrong.

Although breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, I was still unaware of what was happening.

I heard the ambulance arrive. A clip stretcher slipped underneath me from both sides and I was manoeuvred on to it and into the ambulance. Charles and Jack stayed faithfully alongside me. I thought back to the start of the day, when I was enjoying my usual pre-match ritual of two rolls and sausage with tomato sauce. I was representing my school’s former pupil team, Kelvinside Academicals. It was always one of the highlights of my week – running rugby with some of my closest friends.

I was rushed into intensive care where Paul was waiting. The match had finished. Kelvinside lost.

I felt helpless, like a newborn baby. My skull was drilled and a weighted halo dropped over the back of the bed to stretch my vertebrae apart. Then, it was a waiting game until inflammation went down and X-rays were assessed. I was turned every two hours very carefully to avoid sores. Dignity was a thing of the past.

Six weeks later I was told I wouldn’t walk again because of a break and dislocation. There were two options – take the challenge on or give up. I had been a competitor all my life and wasn’t going to stop now. I had to learn to feed, use a wheelchair and brush my teeth. I’m paralysed from the nipple line and my fingers don’t move individually but I make a point not to complain, because I love my life.

My wife Sandra is my angel without wings, and my friends from my rugby and school days have never been far away. The rugby community pulled together to help me and that’s why I continue to do ambassador work for Hearts and Balls, a charity which helps rugby help its own.

Rugby’s a huge part of my life. I work with Scottish Rugby as a partnership account manager for Glasgow Warriors and love being part of the community. The sport has given me far more than it has taken.

PHOTOGRAPH: MARK F GIBSON