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“I want to be someone who talks about it” – Cody Ramsey’s story
An edited conversation between Bradley J Dryburgh and Cody Ramsey from the ‘A Lot To Talk About’ podcast.
Cody Ramsey is a rugby league player for the St George Illawarra Dragons. He lives with ulcerative colitis.
“Losing 29 kilograms in a matter of weeks, surviving multiple surgeries and an eight month stint in hospital, he is set to make what may be the greatest comeback in rugby league history.”
Listen to the full episode here.
Bradley J Dryburgh (BD): I want to go back to 2022. I remember sitting in the stands during the final game of the year, and you had an absolute blinder. All the talk in the press and around town was that this guy is what we’ve been waiting for. The dynamic and attacking energy. The security and consistency of your play. It felt like such a career founding season for you. There was so much hype going into 2023. Then everything changed. How did your health challenges come about? What were the original symptoms and signs that life would look a little bit different for you?
Cody Ramsey (CR): I started in that 2022 season on the wing.
I tore my hamstring in the second game but I would’ve gotten dropped at the same time. I had a few weeks off to recover. I got myself right. I came back to play in the Canterbury Cup. I played two games, then went straight to full back. I played the rest of the season there. It was probably the best I felt – physically, and in terms of my confidence.
Come the offseason, I had a strong last game. I drove to see my brother Jesse in Cairns. We drove our Ute, fished, hunted – everything you could think of. I returned home, and about 10 days before pre-season, I wasn’t going to the toilet. I didn’t feel right, and I was passing a bit of blood. I had a stool sample, and everything looked fine. There were no signs of infection, and I was good to train.
On day one of pre-season, I got my joggers on and started running. We had a 5-6km run, and I was at the back. I pride myself on running, and there’s very few people that I let beat me. We knew something was wrong. I went to gym, woke up the next day and I knew there was something that was definitely wrong with me.
I saw a doctor, had a colonoscopy and they told me I had Ulcerative Colitis. It’s inflammation of the bowel, and it can be treated with steroids. Prednisone tablets. I stayed at home, took them for about a week and I was spiraling. I remember lying on the ground in so much pain. I’d never experienced something like that in my life.
I checked into hospital and waited in the emergency area of Wollongong Hospital for about 18 hours with my partner Tahlia.
It was during the Covid-19 pandemic, and we couldn’t get a bed. It wasn’t their fault; the hospital was just packed. I finally got checked into a bed, and I was told there were a few solutions for me. They told me there’s a 90% chance I’d get over it, and a 10% chance I wouldn’t. I was in so much pain that they were putting ketamine in my leg, and codeine in my arm.
I was going through that, with doctors in and out. At 10pm, I was in so much pain that they had to rush me to emergency and put me under. I was given Infliximab – a drug that’s infused every two weeks. We tried the infusion, and it did nothing. I was still going downhill. They infused me again, and a third time about four days later. Eventually, the doctor sat me down. You know when the doctor sits on the bed – it means something’s wrong. It can’t be good. He said, “you’ll have to give up football.” I looked at my dad and I laughed. [My attitude was] you can’t tell me what to do.
The doctor said that they’d take my whole large bowel out at 8am the next day, and they’d leave me with a stump for my colon. He told me to have my last meal at 10pm. I couldn’t understand why my Mum and Dad were so upset and I wasn’t. I remember going under and waking up with an ileostomy bag.
By this time, I was 62 kilos. In about 6-8 week, I lost 28 kilos, with 5kg of my bowel taken out. I caught Covid-19 after surgery, I had a stomach full of staples and a stoma bag. This was my life now.
To get going I needed to drink a litre of diluted Hydralite every day while I was still in hospital. I had metal staples in me.
I spent two weeks in hospital. After that, Tahlia took me home. But losing 28 kilos comes with consequences. You can’t drop all that weight and think you’ll be okay. Physically, I was drained. I couldn’t get up and walk properly. Multiple times, I stood up to go to the toilet and would wake up with Tahlia standing over me. I’d passed out.
I was discharged three days before Christmas. Three days after Christmas, I woke up in bed, all the staples had split open. I had this massive hole in my stomach. “What do I do now?” Back to hospital. I had that wound for a year. Come January 2023, football was the furthest thing from my mind. But a few of my teammates would get me outside. I didn’t feel like doing things like playing golf, but they’d get me to go.
I wasn’t training, but I was watching. To sit there on the sidelines and know you can’t go out to play was something I’d never experienced. Every game, I’d call mum and I’d be crying. It’s a position you don’t want to be in.
BD: You spoke about feeling physically drained. You lost all this physical strength and weight, but what were the mental consequences like at that time?
CR: It wasn’t as bad as you’d expect.
I called Dad and said, “why aren’t I as sad as what I should be?”
He explained that I still had my contract with the Dragons. I just had to worry about my health. There’s a lot of people living with this disease, and if they don’t get to work within a month, they might be homeless. I also had the support of my family and friends which was huge. I didn’t face significant mental health challenges at the start of this process. I had Tahlia by my side every day.
But this is all the good part – the worst hadn’t started yet. Last year, I went to see the surgeon, who said that we needed to give my bowel six months to rest. My large bowel was going to be turned into my small bowel. Everything would be gravity-fed, and it’d all be connected. It sounded simple, but the list of things that could’ve gone wrong [were extensive]. There would be a high possibility that I’d never be able to have kids. Kids were more important to me than anything. It’s something that Tahlia and I had always spoken about. Around June last year, we were set for surgery. Talia and I weren’t trying for a kid, but we weren’t not.
A week before the major surgery, we found out we’d be having our little daughter, Mia. We stayed in a hotel in Newtown the night before the surgery. We told my Mum who was so pumped, she didn’t believe us. We told Dad the morning of the surgery, and he went white as a ghost. He didn’t know what to do. No one knew what would happen in the surgery. I went under, woke up, and the doctor said that everything went well.
I was in a ridiculous amount of pain. He said we had to wait for my bowel to start moving. We waited for a few days, then at 4am, where my stoma was, I felt this bubbling. I looked down, and there was shit coming out my stomach. They’d closed that up. I had a massive scar on my stomach, and shit was coming out the side. I had a leak in my bowel. Where he’s joined my old stoma to my small bowel – there’d been a leak. If the feces get in your blood stream, that’s sepsis. I nearly had sepsis two or three times.
The doctor said they couldn’t do anything for about three months. There was so much scar tissue around my stomach – there was nothing they could do. I lay in bed, so crook, because I was losing so much fluid. I had no appetite, and I was going to the toilet 40 times a day. It wasn’t feces. It was basically fluid coming out everywhere. I was always dehydrated. I wouldn’t eat at all, so they put a TPN through my arm into my heart to feed me 1000 calories a day. This was down from 3000 calories a day. They finally got me to the point where I could go home. I was told to come back in two months to get my fistula fixed.
The whole time that I was in hospital, about 7-8 months all up, Tahlia was with me while pregnant. I don’t think I’d be alive if it wasn’t for her. There were times e when I wouldn’t bring myself into hospital, but somehow, I got there. It’s because of her. She was by my side through thick and thin. I’d lose consciousness, and suddenly I’d find myself in hospital.
BD: I think the hallmark traits of a perfect partner is that they are everything you don’t have in you already. The wrong person would bail, the right person would stay by your side.
CR: 100%.
She was pregnant and lying on a flatbed next to me. My Mum and Dad were always there, as were friends and teammates. I couldn’t have had any more support. Even from the club, they supported me through the whole thing. They would come and visit. The coach at the time would come and sit with me in hospital. I had so much support, but Tahlia was just my rock. It was what I needed at the time.
BD: At the start, you said that mentally it didn’t really dent you yet. Maybe it’s naivety, which perhaps served you. Had you known how difficult it would be, maybe you would’ve checked out earlier. I wonder how the pregnancy, and having these things to look forward to, provided purpose for you to get through this.
CR: I knew I had to be right by January 1 from the surgery.
I had six months to get myself right so I could be a role model for my daughter Mia. The stoma was easy. I had a bag. I could go play golf and so on. About a month into the reversal, I wanted to go back to the stoma. It was that bad. They said I had to stick it out for these months. Over time, I went from going to the toilet 40 times a day, to 28 times. Eventually, I progressed to the point where I could visit Dad and go for a drive without stressing about needing to go to the toilet.
It was hard, I had so much anxiety that I’d shit my pants. You can’t control it. It’s like being a baby. At that stage, I couldn’t stop it. When I needed to go, it was in my pants or in the toilet. That’s the harsh reality of it. Over time, I started to get better and become more confident.
At one point I said, “Tahlia, I’m going to run to dad’s place in the next two weeks.” It was 32 degrees outside, and I was about 62 kilos wringing wet. Dad’s house was about 3.5 kilometres away. I convinced myself that I’d never go back and play football if I didn’t run to Dad’s that day. I hadn’t stretched in two years. I was in this raggedy old t-shirt and joggers. It would’ve taken me 40 minutes to run the distance. When I got there, they asked me what I was doing. They were stoked that I’d done it.
It was this thing in my head – I’d accomplished something. It wasn’t a big box, but if I kept ticking these small boxes, I would tick big boxes over time. I feel like I’m doing that now.
BD: Throughout this, were you always saying, “I’m going to come back and play footy.” Was that confidence always there?
CR: Yes.
From when the first surgeon said I’d never play again. I laughed, and said to Dad, “yes I will.” The other surgeon said, “take it easy on the Tigers when you get back.” He was the one who cut me open and turned my stomach into what it is now. He explained that once I was healed up, I was good to go. To get to that elite level, there’s a huge amount of work involved But, in his eyes, once you’re closed up, you can get hit as hard as you like. Once you’re sealed, you’re sealed.
I was determined to ensure that doubt and anxiety about my return to the NRL wasn’t in the back of my mind. I would come back. There’s kids out there who live with UC. It happens to about one in 100 people. It’s controllable in the large bowel if you reduce inflammation. Mine happened late and, within six weeks, I went downhill quickly. It’s tough to live with, but you can live with it.
There’s a kid who’s 12 years old, and he was going through the exact same thing as me and at the same time. We were in contact throughout. What if he sees Cody Ramsey going through what he’s going through and giving up on his dream? That’s not me. It’s not who I am. I’m not going to give up.
I wasn’t this person two years ago. I was definitely cocky and arrogant. If I could go back in time and not have this illness – but, in doing so, not have Mia, or be the person I am today – I’d go through it again for sure.
BD: You’ve also spoken in the past about the anxiety you used to feel playing footy. Tell me about that.
CR: When I was playing and healthy, it felt like I had all these problems.
I couldn’t eat on gameday. If we had an 8pm game, I wouldn’t touch food. I’d have a coffee, a Red Bull at lunchtime. then another on the way to the game. That’s what I’d consume before a game of football. I don’t know how much the nutrition team knew. A week before the last game. I walked into [my coach’s] office and said that I couldn’t eat before a football game. I physically couldn’t. I tried everything.
In the week leading up to the game, we’d watch so much video footage about the team we were playing, and what we’d need to do. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. By the time we ran on to the field, I’d be yawning in the sheds. I’d throw up. I’d vomit before the game, again on the field and again at half time. I’d be yawning because I was so exhausted. I didn’t want my family to be disappointed in me.
You have so many people watching you and looking up to you. You just don’t want to fail. Coming from a small town, I’d go home and message a few people saying that that I’m going to kick the football. About 50 kids would show up. My family didn’t know how much it affected me. I didn’t voice this until 2022 – the second last game I played. Tahlia knew – she’d cook for me, but I couldn’t eat. I also couldn’t talk to people. I’d speak to Dad and could put on a persona like everything would be alright. But once the call ends, I’m back to being straight faced – thinking about everything I needed to do. After the game, I’d wonder, “why did I stress so much?”
I could never wrap my head around it. When the game finished, I’d ask myself, “what was all that stress about?” Then it’d build up again the next week.
BD: How do you then overcome that feeling of anxiety, and make sure when you come back, that you can handle that stress leading into the game.
CR: I think I’ll be nervous, but every game I play will be like the last game I play.
That anxiety in the back of my head is gone. I don’t know if it’ll come back, [but] I can’t imagine going on to the football field, and experiencing anything that’s worse than what I went through in that hospital over those seven months. It’s a massive factor.
I’ve experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. They starved me for three months in hospital. I couldn’t eat one ounce of food. It was just TPN and IV fluid. Nil by mouth. To wake up and eat eggs on toast now – what a luxury. I get to eat. I can have a coffee. I can sit here with you and not need to go to the toilet. I know that everything can be so much worse. I try to appreciate where I am now.
I also have my daughter, Mia, Tahlia and a new little girl on the way. Raising them through my own experiences will ensure I never forget what I went through. If I teach them about the hardship and the good, I’ll never lose that perspective.
BD: How much has your life has changed as you start to plan for the future and build your strength up. What does your routine look like?
CR: A few days after Mia was born in January I started light training.
I weighed 63 kilos at the time. I started to lift weights – a few kilos at first. I’d hold the bar, and I felt like I’d fall over. I started eating and drinking well. I’ve figured out what worked for me. I could have two pieces of toast and train. After that, if I eat, I’d go to the toilet.
I got stronger at the gym and slowly began to put weight on. I started to run, and everything felt more normal. I’m 76 kilos now, but I have a long way to go. When I drive into the stadium, it’s an incredible feeling. For most of last year, I wasn’t training with the boys. I’d do an hour in the morning, then have a nap. I slowly progressed to the point where I could do a full day of training.
At some point last year, I strapped my boots on, ran out, and it felt like all my health problems were gone. I was speaking to Dad about this the other day. When I warm up, it sometimes feels like I’ll shit my pants. But I’d get into this flow where it feels like there’s nothing wrong with me. I can just focus on the job at hand. where I was flying but I was nowhere near ready to play. The club had to pull me up and stop me from doing things.
If they let me, I’d play at 62 kilos. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to play — It had to be drilled into me that, if I’d broke something, that could be the end of my career. I have to be at the right weight and demonstrate elite speed and fitness.
I’m still a while away [but] I firmly believe that the comeback will happen earlier than everyone expects.
BD: At the top of the conversation, you mentioned the relief that comes with the security of your contract. But not once have you mentioned it being financially driven.
CR: Rugby league is all I’ve ever wanted to do.
When I was a kid, I always had a football in my hands. But my parents instilled that football isn’t everything. You need something to fall back on if it doesn’t work out. At 16 I got a plumbing apprenticeship and, until 2019, I was a full-time plumber.
From a financial perspective, the stress of failing doesn’t affect me because I know I can go do this. I have a job I can go back to and I’m confident I can do it. I’m going balls to the wall to prove to everyone who believes in me that they’re right. If I can get my diet right and my weight up, I don’t think there’ll be anything that will stop me.
The more I eat, the more I go to the toilet. I can’t just load up on 3000 calories like before and think I’ll absorb it. My body doesn’t produce salt or water like it did. When I run, I get dehydrated. I can’t just drink a glass or water. It has to be diluted with Hydralite. But I recently ran 15kms. If you’d talked to me in January and said, “this is what you’d be doing in November,” I’d be shocked.
I like being the underdog. I get excited when people say, ‘you can’t do this.’ It’s like f***ing watch me. No one in the NRL has had this happen to them. There’s people living with UC who play in the NRLW, but I’m going to be the first to come back after going through these complications. Who better than me to be the first to do it. I see Tahlia and Mia, and I’m good to go.
BD: The last few weeks we’ve been chatting. It feels like there’s more of a motivation to talk about this than ever.
CR: I’ve always kept to myself.
The Dragons didn’t know I had a girlfriend until I was sick. This is the first podcast I’ve done. But it feels good talking about what I’ve been through.
If you’d asked Cody in 2017, who was living in the country, to talk about his feelings, he’d say get f*****. But I’ve had hundreds of people message me to say this or that has happened to them.
Everyone goes through something in their life. Not many people talk about it. I want to be someone who talks about it.
BD: We spoke a lot about footy, but moving forward, what do you want from life?
CR: I’m looking forward to spending time with my family.
I was probably not the most family-oriented person a year ago. Now, it’s all I think about.
My family means so much to me. I just want to spend my time with them. In the future, my goal after football is to start a family business with my Dad. I don’t care if it’s as a pigeon breeder business or opening dog kennel.
My parents are both hard workers, and they’ve instilled that drive in me. I want to be there with my family through everything. I don’t want to miss a single thing that happens in their lives.