A Christmas Letter from Dublin

December 2003

Hello and Season’s Greetings to Everyone —

I know, I know! I said that my last “Letter from Dublin” was indeed the final one, but as it’s the end of the year I thought it would be OK to break my word just a little bit. The fact that another Christmas is almost upon us and the end of another year is coming gives me the opportunity to send greetings to everyone who has, over the last 18 months, expressed an interest in the outcome of my experience with cancer. It also gives me the opportunity to stand back a little and take a look at where I am now compared to July 2002, when my condition was diagnosed.

Last year finished on a tremendously optimistic note with the concert on the 30^th December in the Point Depot in Dublin, to mark the end of the Dubliners’ 40^th Anniversary year. Ronnie Drew and myself joined the other Dubliners for a very enjoyable and emotional concert, and afterwards I was euphoric. We had lowered the keys of my songs to make it easier for me, but it had all gone so well that I felt I had turned a corner with my recovery. In my mind I dismissed the doctors’ dire warnings that, with regard to side-effects, the worst was probably yet to come. In the weeks that followed I even believed that it was only a matter of time before I’d be able to start performing again. To this end I took some selected “no pressure” bookings for later in 2003, beginning with a performance at the wedding of a friend that was scheduled for May. Indeed in February of this year I was still feeling so confident that I even ordered a new sound system for my solo appearances. However, little by little the delayed side-effects of the aggressive chemotherapy and radium treatment, which had been forecast by my doctors, began to become obvious. My speaking voice began to weaken and grow hoarse, and swellings in my throat prevented me from swallowing. This was compounded by a complete lack of saliva, and I was unable to eat any solid food.

On the 13^th. of March, just before St. Patrick’s Day, the Dubliners were to go to London for a few days to make some promotional TV and radio appearances in support of the “Spirit of Ireland” album. They were also to perform a private concert for an invited audience of people from the media and the music business. It transpired that Paddy Reilly would be unavailable, and Ronnie Drew had previous solo engagements, so John Sheahan asked me to come along and fill in to take some of the pressure off Seán Cannon, who would have been the only singer on the night. I was delighted to go along, but on the night of the concert I knew as soon as I started to sing that I wasn’t going to be able to do it. My voice just went completely hoarse after a verse or two, and it got progressively worse. Luckily the show was a short one, but that night was enough to tell me that any dreams of singing again in the near future were hopeless. On returning to Dublin I cancelled the dates I had booked, and resigned myself to perhaps not being able to sing again.

Way back in January the Dubliners had invited me to join them as special guest on their tours of Holland and Germany during September/October and November/December, and of course I was delighted to be accept their kind offer. It was now obvious that without a singing voice I wouldn’t be able to fulfill these engagements, and with great regret we told the organizers that I would be taking no part in the tours.

As it turned out, however, I did go along with the Dubliners for the last four concerts of the Dutch tour, just as a friend. I had several reasons for going to Holland. Obviously I had missed out on the tour the year before, and as a result it had been a couple of years since I had seen my Dutch friends. Also I had been more or less confined to my home (except for three days in London) for a long time and I thought it would be a nice change of scenery. But most of all, I thought it was important to see how I would feel as a spectator rather than a performer. For almost 40 years performing was a very big part of me as a person, and I felt that this would be a good way to draw a line under that considerable part of my life. And to be honest, I felt very strange indeed! For the first time I watched the show as a member of the audience, when I really wanted to be on the stage with the others. But it was also a very worthwhile exercise, because by the third night I had totally accepted the fact that “That was then, and this is Now”. I managed, also, to meet a lot of my Dutch friends, all of whom had been so supportive from a distance during my illness, and I’m really glad I went on the trip.

So that brings us up to date again. As I write this I’m feeling extremely well. I’ve been getting stronger over the past few months; my speaking voice is becoming more normal, and the swellings are going down gradually; and — luxury of luxuries — I’m able to eat solid food again (although the saliva problem is not completely gone away yet) and I’m looking forward to actually having a Christmas Dinner this year. The doctors did warn me from the beginning that the effects of the treatment would be long term, but it’s worth it. A friend of mine put it very well, if a bit crudely: “They were pumping poison into you for five months; you can’t expect it to just disappear.”

All the examinations so far this year have evoked positive reactions from the doctors, in that nothing new has been discovered. In short, the cancer (touch wood) seems to be contained. I had an examination on the 10^h of December in the Blackrock Clinic, after which Doctor Fennelly said that he was very pleased with my progress, and there’s another on the 16^th in St. Luke’s with Doctor Armstrong. I feel confident that this too will give a positive result. So, just as 2002 finished on an optimistic note, it looks like 2003 is doing the same. I hope 2004 doesn’t go as quickly as last year did, however. People say that inactivity makes time drag slowly — I used to believe that myself — but it’s just not true! I feel happy, and I feel very lucky. If it holds up I feel I’ll get some kind of singing voice back. It’s just a feeling, but it’s a very strong feeling. I’m not expecting it to happen any time soon, but I’ve got plenty of time. And that’s something I didn’t have eighteen months ago.

I’ll finish by, once again, sincerely thanking all the friends who have been so kind to me during this time. All the messages, prayers and good wishes did more than you will ever know to help me through a difficult period in my life. And some of these friends are people I have never even met!

I wish you all a Happy Christmas, and a peaceful and healthy New Year.

Blian Nua Shona Dhíbh,

Jim McCann.