I have spent my life chasing money, material possessions and recognition but I've never stopped to ask why. I guess it was just something I thought a person should try to do. Since Christmas I have been thinking of bringing my football career to an end in order to take up a new challenge, but I saw something last Saturday that shocked and shamed me in equal measure.

Of almost any footballer I have come across, nobody epitomises what it means to be grateful to play the game for a living more than Fabrice Muamba. A more down to earth and decent person you could not wish to meet, as the outpouring of sympathy and best wishes from his peers over the last week has demonstrated.

A couple of days after Muamba collapsed in Bolton's FA Cup quarter‑final against Tottenham Hotspur, Roberto Mancini led an ill-thought out condemnation of the English "medical system" (whatever that is) despite the miraculous response by medics and all concerned at White Hart Lane, who ultimately saved Muamba's life. The Manchester City manager's comments were symptomatic of a reactionary man who, despite being in possession of few facts, still felt comfortable to offer a definitive answer. Mancini said: "We need to screen the players more often, maybe two times a year and more accurate."

I was speaking to our club doctor this week (we meet regularly to discuss my depression) and he was telling me that, while the idea of regular screening may sound like the right thing to do, the reality is that, medically, it isn't necessary.

It is now compulsory for all 16-year-olds to be screened before they become professionals – the reason for this is that most heart defects develop in adolescence.

Therefore regular screening between the ages of 18-30 is inappropriate because heart defects very rarely develop then, notwithstanding poor diet and an unhealthy lifestyle, which manifests itself in heart disease rather than as a defect.

In the case of Muamba, his is believed to be one of the same underlying heart conditions that kills 12 apparently fit and healthy young people under the age of 35 every week, which suggests to me that everybody, not just those involved in professional sport, should have an ECG.

Yet when I put that point to our club doctor, he suggested it was not so straightforward because of the financial implications of making something like this compulsory.

He told me: "British medicine did not start out with the intention of making money like America – we would love to charge everyone the £300 that it costs for an ECG but it is not the intention over here to fleece people when it comes to their health."

That said, he felt that it spoke volumes about the mentality of footballers that in the week an apparently fit and healthy player collapses on the pitch after suffering a cardiac arrest, not one of our squad had asked him for a check-up.

I was the only person that approached him and, to be honest, that was only because I wanted his expert opinion for this column. His belief was that while almost every footballer will have been distressed by what happened to Muamba, the majority of players were privately thinking "it'll never happen to me".

Some will argue that clubs should be more scrupulous before signing players. The medical I had just before a big transfer consisted of the physio rotating my hip and knee joints, the club doctor listening to my heart with a stethoscope before I underwent an MRI scan related to a bad injury I'd picked up a couple of seasons before.

In truth, we raced through the procedures, arguably because I was quite sought after at the time and nobody really wanted to find anything wrong. About a year later, we were all sent for ECGs, staff included, with no explanation for why screening was suddenly being introduced.

During my career I have been fortunate enough that managers and chairmen have deemed me worthy of spending millions of pounds on, although it does not necessarily follow that a club laying out huge sums of money on a player will make sure that their new arrival is in the best possible physical condition. Sometimes corners have to be cut, in particular when the clock is ticking down at the end of January and August.

A medical really ought to last for a good few hours but on transfer deadline day that simply isn't possible. I've been standing outside a private surgery waiting to have a scan to complete my medical, late at night, only to receive a call saying that the doctor had sank a glass of wine too many and now couldn't drive down to open up. I signed anyway.

We have all seen the deals going through on Sky Sports News at 10 minutes to midnight – if all the Premier League and Football League need is a signature on a piece of paper from the player to conclude the deal, then why would he charge across the country for a medical?

None of my medicals have ever been what I would call "thorough" but they have all involved a doctor and a stethoscope at the very least. Admittedly, though, a little further down the leagues, you will find a few "cozy" relationships between a manager and his physio who work more on the premise of "can we get away with signing this player?" rather than "should we be signing this player?"

Whatever the answer is, we have all been given a clear warning: it doesn't matter what job a person does for a living, how much money or success someone has accumulated, a person is nothing without their health.

I have always striven to improve the things that many would argue matter least of all: my financial position, the size of my house or my social status with absolutely no clue as to why I was doing it. I have always wanted more from life and I never wanted to drift through merely as a survivor, but now, like Fabrice Muamba, I think I'm just happy to be here.

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