My name’s Steve Smallcalder. I’m 44 years old and originally from Downton, Wiltshire. I moved to Australia when I was 22 and now live in Adelaide with my wife and two daughters, aged eleven and seven.
I had bacterial meningitis when I was ten years old, going into hospital on Saturday, 2nd March 1991. We had just returned from a ski trip the week before and on the Friday night, my symptoms started and escalated quickly: high fever, neck stiffness, sensitivity to light, a headache, a rash that came and went, and vomiting.
It was lucky the symptoms were strong that evening, as it led my parents to decide not to take me to a school rugby game at Twickenham the next morning. On Saturday afternoon, I lost consciousness and began fitting. I was rushed to Odstock Hospital in Salisbury and given oxygen in the ambulance.
A young doctor at the hospital, recognising the signs from two recent similar cases, made the decision to start treating me for meningitis straight away. That early action likely saved my life. Ironically, a few years later, that same doctor moved to my street, and we had the chance to talk about what happened and I was able to say thank you.
I was in a coma for 30 hours, spent ten days in intensive care, and stayed in hospital for two weeks in total. At one point, I pulled out a catheter in my arm while unconscious, and due to my low body temperature, the team struggled to reinsert it.
My mum, dad, grandad, and later my auntie, were by my side throughout. My sister, who was eight at the time, had to stay with a friend until my aunt arrived. It was the first time my sister had ever been away from home. My aunt flew in from California after speaking to my uncle, a doctor in the US, who understood how critical my condition was. When she arrived, I was conscious and said, “I knew you’d come!”.
Everyone who’d been in contact with me or my family had to take medicine that turned their urine red - something I they remember vividly!
I was off school for about a month. My family don’t recall any relapse, but I remember being off again with fatigue about six weeks later. Memory can be a strange thing, so that may not be entirely accurate. But what I do clearly remember is the love I felt from friends, teachers and family when I returned to school. One of my mates even said, “We thought you had died.”
One of the four cases of meningitis at Odstock Hospital at the time left the hospital deaf and blind. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have survived without lasting physical effects, and that’s something I never take for granted.
My experience of meningitis was formative. Even at ten years old, it gave me an early understanding of how fragile life is. I remember being in high school a few years later and telling a teacher, “I had meningitis when I was ten, so now I just want to have a laugh.” It wasn’t particularly memorable, but the teacher’s unfavourable reaction made it stick in my mind!
Now that I’m a parent, the experience hits differently. I have a better understanding of how terrifying it must have been for my parents. My youngest daughter, Eva, is nearly eight and still very attached to us, so I can appreciate how unsettling it must have been for my sister to be separated from our parents during such a difficult time. The experience impacted many people in my life, not just me.
What happened to me as a child has definitely shaped how I approach fatherhood. I try to be present and connected with my kids, not just going through the motions. It’s easier said than done, but it’s something I aspire to every day.
These days, I’ve built a great life in Australia. I work in financial services and enjoy staying active. Running has become a big part of my life, especially since I stopped drinking alcohol on 4th January 2023. Quitting drinking and taking up running has given me a new way to connect with my story.
Running the 2025 London Marathon for Meningitis Research Foundation
In 2025, I ran the London Marathon for Meningitis Research Foundation. Running for Meningitis Research Foundation felt like an obvious choice. It was my way of acknowledging what I went through, what my family went through and paying respect to that time in our lives. Now that I’m a parent, it carries even more weight. I often think about the fear and helplessness my parents must have felt. The fact that the child admitted to hospital just before me was left blind and deaf shows how lucky we were. Running the marathon was a way to honour that - and to do my bit to help reduce the chances of others going through it. Meningitis Research Foundation plays a pivotal role in achieving that.
Meningitis Research Foundation gave me a platform to share my story and raise awareness. It’s been great to feel part of a community of people passionate about preventing meningitis and supporting those affected.
Training for the marathon was tough but rewarding. There were definitely hard runs, but thinking about why I was doing it kept me going. Fundraising was really positive - people were generous, and the cause resonated with them, especially when they heard my personal story.
This won’t be the last time I run for Meningitis Research Foundation. I’ve already looked into the possibility of wearing the t-shirt at other major marathons.
Why sharing stories matters
I believe it’s so important for people to share their meningitis stories. Raising awareness can help others recognise the signs and act quickly. If my story helps even one person do that, it’s a win. It’s also been healing to share my story by helping me process what happened and connect with the people who supported me then and now.
