Plenty of people have overcome adversity in their rugby careers but Andrew Strawbridge’s story is in a league of its own. England’s new assistant coach, back on tour in his native New Zealand, almost died from sepsis in a Samoan hospital a few years ago, his condition so grave his wife was told to prepare for the worst. He ended up losing the sight in his right eye but, thankfully, is still around to retell the tale.
Listening to him recalling the sobering details – “I think I was resuscitated three times” – as England prepare for the second Test against the All Blacks in Auckland on Saturday is certainly to be reminded of sport’s relative unimportance. Strawbridge is now a campaigner for sepsis awareness – “It’s a hideous little thing” – and is seeking to do everything he can to help others avoid similar life-threatening ordeals.
His own nightmare began as he prepared to board a flight to assist with Samoa’s preparations for the 2015 Rugby World Cup. “I had a little graze on my eye and picked up an infection at the airport – the superbug. By the time I got to Samoa, I was feeling pretty crook. I got taken to hospital and sent home with some oral antibiotics.
“I don’t remember anything else. The infection got into my body, I was left unattended for 20-odd hours and developed sepsis. My wife was called over to Samoa to take the body home, essentially. It was pretty grim. She had to hear pretty horrible things you don’t want to hear about a spouse.”
He still counts his lucky stars that an experienced Kiwi medic happened to be in Samoa with his wife, who was on secondment there as a judge. “He came and helped, which is why I’m still alive. That was a pretty grim setup in the ICU there. They had high mortality rates, particularly in children. I’m here because people worked really hard with some pretty average equipment to keep me alive.
“Then we made it back to New Zealand and eventually I got well enough to leave hospital. I went to meet the infectious diseases specialist who told me what my life was going to be like. I was told I would suffer from chronic fatigue for the rest of my life, that I wouldn’t work again, that I would be impotent and that they didn’t know how long I would last. Those were all good things to tell a competitive bastard!”
With his sight permanently affected, a return to active coaching was going to be equally challenging. “I lost sight in my right eye because it [sepsis] crushed my optic nerve. I may be the only skills coach in the world who actually isn’t that great at catching any more!”
He was also advised his outlook on life could alter appreciably. “I had to see a psychologist because when you nearly die several times they want you to talk to someone. He was a really good man and explained to me how I might view things slightly differently, wouldn’t suffer fools gladly and be a little more forthright in telling people that. The ‘no shit, Sherlock’ approach.”
Instead he now thinks it has made him a better listener. A central part of his role with England is to act as a sounding board to younger coaches such as Richard Wigglesworth, who cannot speak highly enough about the 60-year-old’s specialist knowledge around the contact area, running lines and pressing the right psychological buttons.
Perhaps the most powerful lesson, though, has been Strawbridge’s determination to make the most of his post-recovery life. “Life is a battle for most of us a lot of the time but I think I have learned to seek the joyous moments a little more than I used to.”
It has led to him rekindling his passion for music, with Vampire Weekend and Greta Van Fleet currently on his playlist. “I rediscovered a love of music because the piped music in ICU drove me crazy. Greta Van Fleet are a bit like Led Zeppelin but they are all 20 or 21. The lead singer is just like Robert Plant. That’s my next gig.”
And, win or lose at Eden Park on Saturday, Strawbridge’s most fervent wish is for sepsis to be more consistently beaten. “It is a sneaky little thing and is misdiagnosed even by the cleverest people. It is amazing how many stories I’ve heard and how fortunate I’ve been. There are people who have shorter battles with it who have lost limbs and their lives have been inexorably altered. I would love there to be greater awareness.”
