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MENTAL HEALTH


Don’t suffer in silence Life changing


Some of you may have read editor Kerry Haywood’s book review of Ian Darler’s Life’s a Pitch in the last issue. It’s in Chapter 11: Life Changing that Ian speaks about the life-threatening incident that nearly ended his career and plunged him into a very dark place. Here, Ian describes the incident in detail and explains the intensive surgery and recovery process he faced


I


remember the date vividly although, at first, it seemed like any old day at work. It was 6th August 2013 and life was just about as good as it gets.


I was working on the pitch when my volunteer secretary phoned to ask if I could go to the club office and collect an advertising sign that had just been delivered. I made my way to the office, checking all the corridors were clear as I went. I took great care in picking up the thin metal sign, which was about five feet by two, and was careful how I carried it too - these things can be very sharp, as we’d often found when fitting them around the pitch perimeter. Meanwhile, someone had placed some boxes in the walkway in the direction that would take me back towards the pitch. I never saw them. Stumbling over the boxes, I nosedived forward and hit the deck. It was over in a second but I remember watching, as if in slow motion, the sign’s sharp edge


heading towards my face and throat as I was falling. A thought flashed through my mind: if I fall on that my time could be up. The last thing I heard before the darkness descended was an almighty crash. Then, the club marketing manager was holding my head and telling me to lie still. I’d smashed my head on a wall and terrible pain was slicing through my hip and stomach. Some teeth were broken and there was blood all round my mouth and neck. Gingerly, I felt my throat to see if I’d cut it open. A first-responder paramedic was on the scene within a couple of minutes. He administered some morphine for the pain and stabilised me, and an ambulance crew then whisked me off to Addenbrooke’s, where more tests were carried out. Before I was discharged several hours later, I was told I was passing blood.


There followed a night of terrific pain and precious little sleep, and by the morning I


was wondering if I’d had a stroke. I had no feeling in my right arm and three fingers of that hand, and the neck pain was excruciating. The problem, which later proved to stem from a neck and back injury which plagued me for months, until I had surgery


It would be weeks before I could return to work on light duties. Even then, I was limited in what I could do due to hip pain and had to get friends to help out. I knew almost from day one that something besides the physical damage was very wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I just tried to get on with things.


In January 2015, every small club’s dream came true for Cambridge United: a home draw in the third round of the FA Cup against


I nosedived forward and hit the deck. It was over in a second but I remember watching, as if in slow motion, the sign’s sharp edge heading towards my face and throat as I was falling


PC December/January 2020


51





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