In this episode, former Connacht rugby player Fergus Farrell tells Laura what happened after he lifted a metal bench in his own yard in October 2018 — and severed his spinal cord by ninety per cent.
He was paralysed from the ribcage down and told he had a five per cent chance of walking again, on the condition he moved within seventy-two hours. He didn’t move. Instead he lay in a bed for twenty-one days and built a picture in his head: a circuit board for his brain, a light switch for his big right toe, and a wire he had to run between them. At half two in the morning on day twenty-one, the toe flickered. When the doctor came round, he watched it move three times before he’d call it anything other than a spasm.
Fergus is candid about what recovery costs — pain around the clock, no balance, no feeling from his feet to his waist, and the hidden disability nobody sees in a big man walking down the street. He talks about the businesses he lost, the family who carried it, the guilt of being one who got back on his feet, and why he now calls the accident the best thing that happened to him.
In August he set out from Brooklyn Bridge to walk 4,500 kilometres to Santa Monica Pier for Spinal Injuries Ireland — six million steps, and each one as important as the next.
The injury came from lifting, not impact
He carried a 60–80kg bench about fifteen metres, dropped it, took a breath and lifted it again. The second lift ruptured a disc into his spinal column and severed the cord by 90%.
The five per cent came with a condition
A 5% chance of walking again if he moved within 72 hours. He didn’t. The toe moved on day twenty-one.
Visualisation was a tool he already had
He’d used it to win selection and to build his business. In hospital he made it concrete: a circuit board as his brain, a switch as his toe, and the work of wiring them together.
The doctor called it a spasm — twice
Dr Cullen made him move it three times before saying “that’s most unexpected, Fergus.”
Not every disability is visible
He walks, so people assume he’s fine. Zero balance, no feeling from his feet to his waist, constant pain on 3,000mg of gabapentin a day.
The people around an injury carry it too
His then-wife finished the house, worked and raised three young children. “The person that’s left behind injured affects so many different people.”
He never visualised himself walking
He started with the smallest thing he could actually see: one toe, with the blanket off. Setting the finish line at walking would only have set him up to fail.
The walk is the same method at scale
Brooklyn Bridge to Santa Monica Pier, 4,500km, six million steps, 75 days as a target rather than a deadline.
Fergus’s walk across America for Spinal Injuries Ireland
The only Irish organisation dedicated solely to supporting people living with a spinal cord injury and their families
Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation
Supporting the American leg of the walk
National Rehabilitation Hospital, Dún Laoghaire
Where Fergus did his spinal rehabilitation
Following the walk day by day
00:00 — Intro
02:10 — Lifting a metal bench in his own yard
05:35 — The disability nobody can see
06:44 — Pain 24/7, and refusing it attention
08:46 — A five per cent chance, and the seventy-two hours
10:00 — The circuit board, the switch and the wire
12:04 — Day twenty-one, half two in the morning
13:11 — Dr Cullen: “these could be involuntary spasms”
17:50 — The guilt of getting back on his feet
19:42 — What it did to his family
21:53 — Losing the businesses
25:09 — Walking across America
30:56 — “Every day is a new day to improve”
32:42 — Advice for young people, and the meaning of life
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