Positive healing

In spite of his ongoing battle with serious spinal injury, rug

I SUDDENLY felt as if I was floating. My arms went light, I felt as if I was going up in the air even though I hit the ground. It was terrifying and I knew straight away something was seriously wrong."

As a rugby player, it is the one thing you never dwell on before a match.

In a sport defined by its physicality, there is always the risk of injury, with bruises, bumps and even broken bones very much the norm. But the injury the rugby player dares not contemplate is the threat to the neck and spine.

The severe spinal injury is a freak accident, occurring so rarely that it can be blocked out of your mind with comparative ease it's a risk you know exists but you never think it will happen to you or to one of your mates.

It happened to Mick O'Connell.

Seeing Mick in the National Rehabilitation Centre in Dun Laoghaire and comparing him with the man I lined out alongside a few months ago came as quite a shock. A vital, energetic 25-year-old, Mick now has movement only in his head and his right hand and forearm. He has also shed a great deal of weight from the sturdy, muscular frame of old. And yet, immediately, one is overcome by Mick's wonderful spirit, his enthusiasm for life, his refusal to despair and, above all, his determination to regain more and more movement.

Even when the laborious process of levering him into his wheelchair could have caused awkwardness, Mick laughs and jokes, putting you totally at ease. As you talk and realise the hell he has endured over the past few months, you understand just how far he has already come and yearn to help him on the next part of his journey.

O'CONNELL is a fine rugby player. Attending Coláiste Chríost Rí, a famous Gaelic football nursery in Cork city, O'Connell took up the game underage with Cork Constitution, lining out as a number eight on the same team as Ireland stars Ronan O'Gara and Peter Stringer. He transferred to a rugby school, Christians Brothers College, and, by then an accomplished tight-head prop forward, played on the junior and senior sides.

After school, he moved back to Con, where he played U20 for a couple of years before crossing the city to Dolphin. A mobile, skilful prop, Mick played mostly for the junior team and was delighted when he got his first senior start in the Charity Cup against Clonakilty last November. The game was only a couple minutes old as Mick readied himself for the first scrum.

"I was playing on the loose-head side that day, I can play both. But, at that scrum, I didn't drop my head fast enough and it hit off your man's outside shoulder as the scrums came together.

"I knew straight away I was in trouble but, originally, I thought I'd just been knocked out. Then I realised it might be worse than that.

"The ambulance came really quickly and the journey back to the Cork University Hospital seemed to go fast enough. There was a guy in the back of the ambulance with me, I don't know his name, but he was brilliant. He kept talking to me the whole time, it kept me calm the whole way."

In CUH, it quickly became apparent just how serious Mick's injuries were and the next couple of months saw him come close to death more than once.

"I lost half my weight and was really weak the whole time. Those were the worst times. I was losing all my blood. It's embarrassing to talk about it, but it was running out everywhere.

"They were pumping blood back into me and I seemed to be having operations all the time. They had me on a lot of morphine but couldn't knock me out fully because they had to be able ask me questions, to see if I was OK before they tried something.

"It's all a bit of a blur. I do remember afterwards my family around me saying, 'Jesus Mick, we nearly lost you there'"

In the weeks and months that followed, Mick says he drew strength from the vast amount of support.

"Everyone was sending mass cards and prayers and there were loads of messages. Getting all of that gave me strength. I saw what my family was going through and saw them crying and saying, 'See this through, Mick' and it really helped knowing how much they were behind me, willing me on."

As well as having no movement, O'Connell's lung collapsed and he was placed on a special breathing apparatus with a tube inserted in his throat.

"I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, you try to move your eyes to get people's attention."

He begins to laugh.

"I ended up having to make this noise (he makes a Skippy kangeroo-type noise) if I wanted someone's attention. You'd wonder whether people were getting insulted, me making this ridiculous noise at them.

"It was a tough time, waking up in the morning, getting physio, but physio meant getting my lungs drained, they take it all out, turn you on your side.

"I remember one of the operations, it was looking really bad, they had to stop the bleeding by taking a lump out of my stomach and there was a real danger I wouldn't survive.

"The day they got the go-ahead to do the operation, Doug, my brother, was upstairs in the hospital praying and then, half an hour before it was due to go ahead, the bleeding stopped.

"I don't know if it was a miracle or what, but somebody was looking after me, I was blessed."

Mick came through the darkest days, bolstered by incredible support from his friends and family, the staff at CUH and the messages of goodwill from the public. "All the CUH staff were absolutely brilliant," he says, "I have made some fantastic friends from my time there."

Eventually, he was well enough to be transferred to the National Rehabilitation Hospital in Dun Laoghaire and began regaining weight, found his voice again and developed movement in his right hand and forearm.

Yet, considering his full, active life a few short months ago how does he stave off feelings of depression or even despair?

"I look at the positives," he says. "Actually, I consider myself lucky. Whenever I feel down, I look around the ward here and there's someone worse off than me, and I look at what they have to go through.

"We're very close on the ward, there's an incredible support structure. We all help each other along.

"You have to be positive. At the start, I couldn't even scratch my nose. Now, I can shake you by the hand , and I can hold my phone to take calls. There's a huge amount to go. No one knows how far, but it's improving slowly.

"All I really want at the moment is to be able to push myself around in the wheelchair instead of relying on other people to do it the whole time. That's all I want a bit of independence."

And how does he feel about rugby now? Would he advise people against the sport?

"No, no, not at all," he stresses.

"I have no regrets, I still love the game. It's just one of those things that happened.

"I've met a guy who had the same injury playing GAA. They're freak accidents. I mean, you can't go along scared of what's around the next corner."

MANY of us go through life with a cynical cloak wrapped securely around our shoulders. If something threatens us, we mock it too cool to show weakness or emotion or sensitivity. But meeting Mick O'Connell demonstrated how remarkable the human spirit can be. Watching him soak up the warmth and affection of his friends and family and visibly draw strength from it is a moving experience.

And, looking around the ward, you think of the many others with similar injuries and those who don't even make it to excellent facilities like Dun Laoghaire.

This young man's reaction to the tragic circumstances which have befallen him is truly awe-inspiring. He doesn't know how much his condition will improve and is acutely aware that a massive amount of money will need to be raised to facilitate the changes to his life, a fact that embarrasses him greatly.

Yet he is staggeringly pragmatic and upbeat, giving thanks for what he has rather than focusing on what he has lost.

And, above all, Mick is determined, gutsily intent on fighting the injury as hard as he can to give himself greater independence and reduce the strain on others. All the minor worries of life work, mortgages, failed romance are put firmly in perspective by what he has come through and the battles that still await him. Now, it is up to us to fight with him.

Your support counts

THE fundraising drive for Mick O'Connell begins in earnest on Sunday, May 11 with a sponsored 5k walk/run starting from Musgrave Park, Cork.

Paul Mitchell, chairman of the Mick O'Connell Appeal Fund says they are looking for schools and sports clubs in particular to raise sponsorship and participate, and wear their club or school colours on the day.

"Our target is for each adult to raise at least 100 for this worthy cause," said Mitchell.

"We don't know the long-term picture as regards Mick's injuries but we know we must raise a substantial amount of money to cater for his needs, whatever they may be.

"What happened to Mick O'Connell is every player's worst nightmare and we ask them, not only to participate but to encourage their children to walk on May 11 and to actively collect sponsorship from family and friends.

"This is the story of a freak accident, an inspirational human being, and what the people of Cork and beyond can do to help," added Mitchell.