Rick Allen, the drummer in Def Leppard, lost his left arm in a car accident at 21. Now 39, he recalls the horror of the crash and how,weeks later, he was back on stage playing drums again.
"It was New Year's Eve, 1984. I was back in England for the Christmas break - we'd been recording our fourth album in Holland. I'd taken my girlfriend, Miriam, home to meet my parents. At that point in my life, the underbelly of rock'n'roll - drink and drugs - had more appeal than playing the drums.
Recording our album was dragging on and on, and driving my Corvette-Stingray was one way to get my frustration out. I decided to show Miriam the Yorkshire countryside. We headed out to Ladybower Reservoir, looked at the sites, then drove towards the A57. A few minutes later, this red Alfa Romeo went flying past. Then I saw the driver up ahead, slowing down, slowing down. I tried to pass him, but he speeded up. We played this stupid game for four miles. Finally, I lost my temper and put my foot down. I was going round this corner, but because I was in this left-hand-drive car, I didn't see the ground properly and ended up rolling the car over, destroying a stone wall. I was thrown out via the sunroof and landed in a field. But my arm stayed in the car - the seatbelt took it off.
I blacked out as I went round the corner. All I remember was standing in the field, saying: 'I'm a drummer and I've lost my arm.' There was no pain or a feeling of being horrified. It just felt very simple - I had the choice to stay or go, live or die. Miriam escaped with cuts and bruises.
This district nurse, Eileen Pierce, was driving past. She said it was awful: I was wandering around this field and she had to grab me and bind me with bandages, like a mummy. In hospital, I was unconscious for a week. They put me under anaesthetic to reattach my arm, but days later it became infected. As it was so close to my heart, they had to take it off. But I knew nothing about it. I was out for the count.
When I finally came round, I still didn't know I'd lost my arm. Your body has a filtration system where it doesn't let you know exactly what's happened, but gives you hints.
Lying in the hospital bed, I couldn't think of anything except wanting to play the drums again, and within a few days I realised I could still play. I was listening to music - my brother had brought me my stereo - and I found I could play the basic rhythms using my feet, tapping this piece of foam at the end of the bed. When the guys in the band visited me, I showed them how I'd play. I was having the most clarity I'd had in years. Not only was I straight, but I had a goal. Then a friend visited me and said: 'Whoa, seeing you playing with your feet, I think we can develop some foot pedals.'
Then, one night, a junior doctor came in and said: 'You'll never play drums again.' That really f---ing blew it. I felt really deflated. But him saying that gave me more determination. Another doctor said: 'You'll never wave again.' So when I came back as an outpatient, I gave him this big wave.
My other arm was broken, and there was a chance I was going to lose that too. I said to the nurse: 'Don't worry if it hurts when you're cleaning it - just clean it really good.' Then I said: 'Do you realise I've got my hand up your skirt?' She said: 'Yeah, I do.' It was my left hand - the one that was gone. My missing arm was still there, and she confirmed it. But it was a free spirit: I couldn't control it. When my dad came in, I said: 'Touch me where you think my left hand is.' He reached out and said: 'Urgh! What's that?' I said: 'It's my arm. It's still there.' The feeling only lasted two weeks, then the energy shrunk back into my body.
After the accident, I knew what was important. I felt blessed to be alive. It changed a lot about me - gave me more compassion. And I got so much support. I jammed up I don't know how many post-office depots with letters people sent me: thousands and thousands from all over the world.
They told me I was going to be in hospital for six months, but I was home after 31/2 weeks. I went back to Holland to join the rest of the band five weeks after the accident.They were really shocked to see me at the recording studio, and I was shocked to be there. It felt premature. I was scared I was going to miss something. But I got so much encouragement from them - they realised this kind of thing could have happened to any of us.
It took me a couple of years to come to terms with the way I looked. I knew I was getting over it when I walked into a room feeling more concerned that my hair looked okay. Then I'd go: 'Oh, f---ing hell, my arm's gone as well!' My daughter, who's five, doesn't see any difference. I ask her, 'How many arms does Daddy have?' and she says: 'Two.' So I say: 'No, how many arms does Daddy have?' And she'll go: 'Awww, one.' Then I say: 'Does it bother you at all?' And she says: 'No.' But today, things can still hit me. When I'm getting ready to go out, and feel I'm being really slow - tying shoelaces, getting dressed - I'll get frustrated and think: 'This used to take me two minutes.'
The first time I played live was four weeks after the crash in a pub in my home town. That was nerve-racking. The next year, we did some warm-up shows in Ireland. We got another drummer in - Jeff Rich from Status Quo - to ensure nothing went wrong, like the electronic drums going down. We did the first show, and that was great. For the second show, Jeff didn't make it till halfway through. At the end, our singer, Joe, said: 'Wow, I couldn't tell when he joined in.' At the third show, the stage was too small for two drumkits, so I did the gig alone. After, Jeff shook my hand and said: 'I guess I'm going home then.' That was the biggest compliment.
Then we went to England to play the Donington rock festival in front of about 80,000 people. When Joe introduced me, I was so overwhelmed by how behind me the crowd were; I felt so much love coming off them, everyone was rooting for me. Then I started crying, thinking: 'I'm gonna cry over the electronics and be electrocuted. But it won't matter.' Every emotion under the sun was coming up. It was really good - and it's got better ever since."
