My hero husband Rob Burrow came back from the dead so we could say one final goodbye – it was a miracle

LINDSEY BURROW spent four years caring for her rugby hero husband Rob as he valiantly fought motor neurone disease. The Leeds Rhinos star courageously raised awareness of the degenerative condition and help­ed collect more than £20million for MND charities and research. In an exclusive interview with The Sun, Lindsey told how she and children Macy, 13, Maya, nine, and six-year-old Jackson made everlasting memories in Rob’s final hours.

Today, Lindsey, 42, describes in her own words from her new book, Take Care, how Rob came back from the brink to say goodbye to his family. She also tells how his rugby friends helped him through his illness after his diagnosis in December 2019, with England rugby kicking coach Kevin Sinfield helping Rob raise millions through a series of epic marathons. More than £6.8million will go towards a new centre for MND ­sufferers in Leeds, named after Rob.

ROB’S friend Kev Sinfield was among the first to guess something was ­seriously wrong with him. He had noticed the star was ­slurring some of his words and, as director of rugby at Leeds, he arranged a meeting in his office. “Look, Rob, what’s going on? I’m worried about you?”, asked Kev. Rob eventually admitted he was stressed and struggling with an old shoulder injury and was sure the slur was down to the painkillers he was taking. Kev insisted Rob see the team ­doctor, which eventually led to the terrible news he had MND.

WE met our neurologist Dr Agam Jung at Leeds General Infirmary. She and a speech therapist said they couldn’t predict how much longer Rob would be able to talk coherently but said new technology could help him retain a voice. A speech app would allow Rob to communicate by typing out a text, which could then be broadcast as an audio message. A company called SpeakUnique could replicate Rob’s accent and intonation so that it would sound as if he was saying the words out loud.

The alternative was to use the ­standard metallic voice, which had become synonymous with Professor Stephen Hawking, the theoretical physicist who had lived with a slow-progressing form of MND for 55 years. Rob grinned at the idea that he might end up with an “American robot voice”, but chose to bank his own voice by reading a short book out loud so the tech could capture it. I don’t think Rob was too happy when it turned out to be The Tale Of Peter Rabbit.

BRITAIN shut down due to Covid and the then-Prime Minister Boris Johnson told people to stay at home. We would obey but we were on our own. For those first weeks, we made the most of the chance to be with Macy, Maya and Jackson. We spent brilliant days in the ­garden, playing with the kids. Rob was still a hands-on dad and he and the girls built obstacle courses for them to climb over. At night we spoke to our parents on the phone and organised extended family quizzes and games on Zoom.

I remember lots of laughter from those first months of lockdown. It was only later that I understood that Rob had been struggling internally. He was usually the most quick-witted and funniest of us all, but while the quips flew back and forth, Rob was quieter than normal. I thought he was just tired but, in truth, he was floundering. He could think of rapier-like responses to all the wisecracks; but it felt impossible to turn the jokes he saw in his head into words we could all hear.

I found his words comforting because it meant that Rob was free of any bitterness and resentment. His speech started to fade fast. The months passed. I noticed Rob was losing weight and his movement was increasingly compromised. When the UK started to open up again in May, Kev would drive across to Pontefract every two weeks. Barrie McDermott was another frequent ­visitor and sometimes arranged for a few other Rhinos to join him in a socially distanced outdoor gathering.

They shared so much laughter on those summer afternoons. But they had plenty of serious conversations as they discussed the state of the game and the fact that some players across both codes of rugby had taken the legal route with regard to concussion injuries. Rob, typing his words into the app, said: “If playing rugby league has given me MND, then so be it. I would not swap it for anything.”. ROB was admitted to hospital after developing a temperature.

We knew that there was a lot of public interest around Rob, and at Pinderfields ­Hospital in Wakefield, we were asked to give a password to keep everyone out except close friends and family. We pick the word hero. AS I sat in the corner of Rob’s hospital room with Jackson, watching Ghostbusters together on a ­little DVD player, my husband suddenly started to struggle to breathe. Doctors and nurses rushed in as his oxygen levels and heart rate took a dive. We expected to lose him, and a consultant advised us to say goodbye.