Blade runner’s long road

It could have been worse, much worse. It happened on Friday the 13th of September 2002. Philip Sheridan was on a week’s leave from his job, which was a senior role working with youngsters at a therapeutic children’s home. That morning he got on his motor bike to ride to Whitby, have fish and chips at the harbour, a look round, then back home.

At 1.50pm, a mere 20 minutes or so from the fish and chip lunch, the back wheel of his Triumph 600 Sports slid at low speed on a sharp bend – possibly on a slick of diesel oil. He managed to regain partial control of the bike, only to be hit by a truck coming round the next corner. “I tried to accelerate to avoid a head-on. Unfortunately, I hit the driver’s side wheel”, said Philip.

What seems to have happened next is that the truck tyre spun him round inside the wheel arch and out on the road in front of the truck. He had tyre marks up his right leg. “I was extremely badly injured”, says Philip, who was conscious throughout the horror and was even able to talk the truck driver through his own shock.

There was no suggestion he had been riding recklessly. He was not that sort of biker. It was a mitigation of sorts, not exactly a fluke accident but accidental all the same.

The 38-year-old biker was a physical mess. “I knew I was extremely badly injured. A lady asked if she could help and recoiled in shock when she saw me.”

The road was blocked and Philip was possibly dying. It was 5pm when he arrived at Scarborough A&E.

Apart from a shattered right leg, he had severe injuries to his left leg, arms, shoulder, head impacts and other cuts, knocks and intrusions. He was deaf in his left ear for six months.

On October 8 his right leg was amputated below the knee at St James’ in Leeds, saving the knee joint, which was a significant consolation.

“I was extremely, extremely poorly,” says Philip, in a matter of fact way, not soliciting sympathy, just explaining how bad he felt. He was discharged from hospital at the end of that October, with lots of screws and metal plates holding his right thigh together.

More than nine years later, how is he? How do you get back from such an imposition and its hammer blow effect on everything from work to where and how you live to regaining physical fitness, the personal stuff like emotions when you wake in the night feeling terribly grim, wondering what next, where next, any next at all.

There were, in fact, a lot of nexts to come. One leg is shorter, there is peripheral nerve damage on his left leg and arm , which are still numb when touched. There has been massive muscle loss from a body built tough through running, moorland yomping, martial arts and mountain biking.

He had to leave his flat in Ilkley because it was no longer suitable, and he could not afford the type of house he needed in the affluent town. Today he lives in a secluded terrace house on flat ground in Keighley. West Yorkshire. The large plate and screws were not removed from his mangled right leg until February of 2010.

“I was in a wheelchair for 12 months. It was impossible to continue with my job physically or emotionally. I am still terribly, terribly poorly”, explains Philip. He uses the word poorly often in our chat, in his smart sitting room with its alcoved stove and a neat sack of seasoned logs.

His life is moving forward. There is an automatic motor scooter on the forecourt, his and her mountain bikes locked up safely, and in the house, a high-tech Ossur running leg made from a carbon fibre lower blade with an all-terrain sole and an aluminium shank which is attached to his knee with a socket. Several months have passed and he is still adjusting the fit – crucial for the impact from running.

This Icelandic false leg is similar to the ones worn by the “Blade Runner”, the South African Oscar Pistorius, triple sprint gold medal winner at the 2008 Beijing Paralympics. Pistorius was born with feeble lower legs which were amputated between the knee and ankle when he was 11 months old, and so he has grown up using artificial lower limbs.

Philip Sheridan and other amputees have not had that long gestation. Pistorius and his running blades are so good that at times he can challenge an able-limbed peer athlete. Philip Sheridan is not at that level. “No way does it give me any advantage and on the trail it is a huge disadvantage. It is designed for going forwards and trail running is not like that.” Trail running needs split second response when the feet touch the ground, and rapid correction if the foot lands awkwardly – something the human brain and body do intuitively. The false leg weighs a kilo (2.2 lbs) and this is an unsprung load on the knee joint. He likens it to a bucket of cement on his leg. The foot does articulate but not in a natural way. It is, though, more efficient for running than the regular street-walking false leg he uses every day.

The Ossur Flex-Foot was fitted in August at Seacroft Hospital in Leeds, one of the centres which will supply the high-tech blade under NHS terms for the right people. Philip Sheridan did not ask for the Ossur but was offered it by a consultant who realised it could help him run more efficiently. It does, but he stays on reasonable terrain or canal towpaths.

Here you may also see him riding his mountain bike – which he has built as a single speeder with an adapted right pedal arm for his shorter leg. He also rides a geared track racer. He has discovered climbing-walls – where his upper body strength compensates – and is studying for an MSc in Occupational Therapy. He does say that he avoids going in to crowded areas on his own, which illustrates how his confidence has been reduced.

On the other hand, by concentrating on what he can do he has gained self-esteem, such as the climbing wall and on his early runs. “I started with a few paces but had forgotten how to run,” says Philip, who had run middle-distance and cross-country at school in Guiseley. His brain started remembering how to run and he built up to a hundred metres one day. A few days later, he was running 200 and then 300 metres. “It was a slow, inexorable process of how far can I go. I had to be very careful not to fall over because my femur is like Swiss cheese from the holes left by the screws.” At first he ran with crutches.

This year he plans some charity trail runs and is planning to run the 80-mile Dalesway in steady stages from Ilkley to Bowness. He already gives inspirational talks to children and adults.

“Just because something seems impossible today does not mean it will be impossible tomorrow. I had to wait nine years to be able to run and cycle again.

“I have always got the sense that I do not know what tomorrow is going to bring.

“Not many people have the chance of having a blade – about one per cent. You have to be determined and passionate.” He talks about his blade being “awarded” and says: “I can’t tell you the emotions it gave me.” He does also realise the limitations. A prosthetic leg “gives nothing back” and needs lifting over stones, roots and other obstacles.

There have been darker emotions, the nightmares and anxiety invasions and traumas. But here the medical network and friends and family have helped. Another therapy to deal with mental stress has been creative writing. An example is this octet Run.

I find my rhythm in the land,

Join with it

And find my ease in the world.

I extend my body

My heart’s tempo

Into my limbs.

And remember myself

Whole again.

Philip Sheridan hopes to run the Dalesway in three days, starting on September 13, the 10th anniversary of his accident. He says: “That’s 84 miles or 135 km in three days. This will prove a huge undertaking, physically, emotionally and logistically.”

He will fund raise for the charities Mind, Martin House, Survival International, and Combat Stress.

Contact Philip Sheridan through Twitter @madeof beauty.