PHONE calls at slightly dubious hours are par for the course when they come from George Wilson Weir, better known to the world as Doddie.

Usually, after the customary “top of the morning” greeting, there follows a question; “Wee man [I am referred to as ‘big’ by other folk], what are you doing?” This is normally a precursor to him asking (or demanding) some kind of assistance, usually when he is a man down in his day job, or, when he is double-booked for a function.

At the turn of the year, however, he wanted to see me, in person. Not easy, given that our personal universes were hardly ever parallel. And when we did finally meet up, we were too busy, with too many folk around. A phone call would have to suffice.

Read more: Former Scotland international Doddie Weir diagnosed with motor neurone disease

Pleasantries parked, Dod explained he had good news and bad. The good was I might have another couple of MC-ing engagements. The bad news was, as the world found out yesterday, that he had MND, motor neurone disease.

Doddie entrusted his news, to family, some ex-team mates and close friends; the former can’t avoid the situation, bound together by some of the DNA, blood and fibres, which in the case of Dod, have gone slightly askew. The latter grew in numbers as the months went on. But we were bound by rugby’s equivalent of omerta, entirely down to Doddie not informing anyone else as to who he’d told. That has nothing to do with MND. That’s just him. So coded conversation became the norm, even amongst pals.

Amazingly, the secrecy held together; nobody broke cover until eldest son Hamish had completed his exams, until the Weirs were bound for the land of the long white cloud, and, just to show that in his hour of need Doddie was still thinking about others, until the announcement could coincide with MND awareness month, getting publicity for this disease and those living with its consequences. Even for someone who found himself on the wrong side of a ruck against the All Blacks, there are things Doddie is frightened about today. A real fear, from the outset, was how people would react to the news; this is when he needs folk close, not being shy or absent. Now read that last sentence again.

Read more: Former Scotland international Doddie Weir diagnosed with motor neurone disease

Keeping things normal has meant keeping a sense of humour, although it has gone a slightly darker shade of black on occasions. During a visit to the Euan Macdonald Centre, we saw examples of the painstaking research going in to halting this illness. At one point, Dod, Kathy and me at found ourselves staring at a culture dish containing a clear solution, and apparently, fish. None were visible to the naked eye. But the £300,000 microscope could see them, as could the girl doing the experimentation, as she had one on her computer screen. But I couldn’t help think – and said so – that when we departed, the scientists would collapse in laughter at the dafties who again had fallen for the fish joke.

Visiting the Euan Macdonald Centre, we heard about neuronsm astrocytes and oligodendrocytes (which as the names suggest, take some explaining), and saw the fantastic work being done on speech and voice reconstruction. But, all of these things take time, when all Doddie wants to know, is will there be a silver bullet, or a get out of jail card, or a golden Willy Wonka ticket, in the immediate future. There will be, eventually. However that is not what he, or any of us, really want to contemplate.

Things are likely to get worse before they get better. We are all aware of that. There is one drug for those with this condition to take, just over 500 sufferers in Scotland, so it doesn’t, apparently, justify major expenditure or resource.

Read more: Former Scotland international Doddie Weir diagnosed with motor neurone disease

That doesn’t really square with most folk confronted with MND, at whatever level. But then, neither would we want to damage funding levels for methadone. Sorry, I may have come across quite bitter there. But that’s how I’m feeling. It is difficult not to feel that way when you stare MND in the eye, or look into the eyes of those who have it.

In the meantime, Doddie will have our support; from builders to broadcasters, from Lords to lawyers. Name a profession, and already they’ve pitched up. So has the rugby family that became even more extended yesterday; from those who just like his tartan suits, to those in the Twittersphere who turned his timeline yesterday in to a tickertape.

But mostly it will come from the men who have won with the Lions, won Grand Slams, Triple Crowns and Five Nations Championships. Even from those who have nothing more than a Shinwell Cup badge to their name. None of us like losing or being beaten. Not without a fight. But on this one, we’d take it staying 0-0 for a very long time . . .