I coach soccer and Gaelic and I’d a problem with my right leg, my back too. I was dragging my leg, it was a bit dead. I put it down to trapped nerve, a slipped disc.
My wife, Sheila, said “go to the osteopath”. But after some checks on me, and because I’d no pain, she was reluctant to work on me. She recommended an MRI. I thought this a bit drastic, and was annoyed she wasn’t going to fix me right then.
Sheila advised I ring the Galway Clinic. They said to come to A&E next morning — Thursday, March 12, 2020.
After a spinal MRI, sitting in the waiting room, the doctor came, said: “We need to admit you.” Something had shown up, they needed more tests. I was in shock: “How do you mean, something showed up? What showed up?” They said to take a seat, that they were sorting a room.
There was a TV right above me. I remember looking up: breaking news – ‘we’re going now to Washington’.
And Leo Varadkar standing on steps: “I need to speak to you about the coronavirus.” There was urgency in his words, and I kind of came out of my own breaking news.
I listened to the headline, kind of stared at him blankly… I was thinking ‘what could have shown up on my scan, what’s the doctor on about?’. And Leo was still talking, and my mind in a blur: could they have been wrong with the scan?
And I heard Leo saying they were shutting down education, all schools. I remember thinking ‘I’m supposed to be at work’ — I’m a caretaker in Ballinrobe Community School.
I was thinking ‘my job is to open the school and I’m in hospital’. There was this crossover between what Leo was saying and where I work.
I rang Sheila, said: “I’m in a bit of bother, but don’t come up — when I know more I’ll buzz you.”
The doctor arrived — I was going for a brain MRI. Was there a family history of MS? I asked: “Am I going to be in a wheelchair?” The doctor said no, they were just trying to rule out something.
I was given a bed, I’d have a lumbar puncture next morning, blood tests later. Had I had any other symptoms?
And it clicked — in recent months, I’d been experiencing numbness on the left side of my face — half my cheek, lip, eye, occasionally going numb. My eye-lid would sometimes half close. Random sensations… pins-and-needles on my leg, sometimes across my chest.
I phoned Sheila, said: “They’re on about MS, will you pack a bag? And bring my cigarettes.”
I Googled MS. What can be done for it? I wasn’t a big smoker but straightaway I saw: ‘if you’re a smoker and have MS, you’re 70% more likely to relapse’. I was thinking pretty big odds — you wouldn’t be betting on that!
All of this was happening to me, and covid was in the background — the country had gone into meltdown, people buying toilet roll, loaves of bread. By the time Sheila came they’d put security on the doors.
We met in the foyer between the doors. That was probably the most emotional time. She cried. I cried. I was telling her I was going to be ok. I didn’t know myself what I was facing. I remember thinking the time I had with her was precious.
After she left I went on my phone, looking for someone to tell me, if it is MS it mightn’t be as bad as I thought. I couldn’t find anything — in March 2020 all I could see was doom and gloom.
The official MS diagnosis came later, but on March 13 they reviewed my spine and brain scans — I had a lot of lesions, it was pretty obvious. Everything just ground to a halt.
I had all these questions: were things going to shut down for me? Would I be able to keep coaching football, keep working? Bigger than that: can I still be a father to our 10-year-old son, Ajay? A husband to Sheila?
A three-day course of IV steroids improved me. I went home. Lockdown helped — I didn’t have to make arrangements around work, get somebody else to take Ajay to training, or to take the training session. Everything had stopped, and it was like it had stopped for me.
I had a pretty aggressive form of MS. Four weeks home, I lost my ability to walk — the darkest time ever. The doctor spoke about ramps to the front door, how high were the light switches. I said ‘you’re moving way too fast’.
September 2020, I started a treatment plan, and within weeks saw improvement. That first day in hospital in March, I’d thought, whatever news I get today, I’m going to meet it head-on. I have to — for Ajay and Sheila, who are the most important to me.
I’m a big believer in control the controllables. I changed my diet, started exercising, improved my core strength. I slowly got my walk back. I still have that box of cigarettes in the glove box of my car.
If you see me today, you wouldn’t know there’s anything wrong with me. I’m working full-time, involved in football and motorsports. I am the good news story I looked for in 2020.
I want the 2020 me to see the 2025 me, to see that MS isn’t the life sentence it once was.
