A Letter from Dublin (Update)

 

February 14th 2003

 

 

Hello All — Happy New Year, and a Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

As promised, this is a follow-up to the “Letter from Dublin” I wrote just before Christmas 2002. That letter was sent to a wide selection of people on my mailing list at the request of many friends who had been curious for information as to my condition following the diagnosis of my throat cancer in July 2002. Indeed it was also published on several websites which are dedicated to news of the Dubliners, and the feedback from that has prompted me to bring everybody who’s interested up to date.

 

So here’s a warning — if you’re not one of those who asked, stop reading now and delete this letter immediately, otherwise it will cause a dangerous attack of boredom!

 

First, the concert in the Point Depot in Dublin on December 30th, 2002 was a tremendous success. Almost 5,000 people showed up, and it was a great way to finish off the 40th Anniversary Year for us all. Not only was the concert in our home town, it was also the night before New Year’s Eve and proved to be a very emotional occasion for the audience, the Dubliners, myself and Ronnie Drew.

 

As for my own situation — I told you in the first letter that my chemo and radium treatments were both completed in December 2002, and several tests were scheduled for January. On Monday 13th January I had an appointment in the Dept. of nuclear medicine in Blackrock Clinic to have something called a “Urea Breath Test”. This had to be at least 6 weeks after my last dose of anti-biotics and was to test for bacteria which medical science now says is responsible for many duodenal ulcers. It’s called (I think) “Helicobacter Pylori”.  I don’t know what the results of the test were, but as it has to do with the “gastric bleed” it probably isn’t too urgent.

 

Then on Wednesday 15th January I had a consultation with Dr. Fennelly in St. Vincent’s, who was in charge during all the chemo treatments. He gave me a fairly cursory examination, I thought, but what he had to say was very welcome. He said that as far as he was concerned, I didn’t need to see him again until next April! He said that the main tumour appeared to be in “complete recession” and that I’d been through some very rough treatment, I had tolerated it very well and that it appears to have been a success. The only thing that stopped me from jumping up and down was that I had yet to see Dr. Armstrong, who was in charge of the radiation side of things, and I couldn’t really relax until he said the same thing. He’d be looking inside my neck with a laryngoscope and ordering scans and X-rays, altogether a more thorough exam. My gullet was still swollen and I still had no saliva or taste, but Dr. Fennelly said that all these were carry-overs from all the chemotherapy and radium treatments and not to worry about them.

 

Dr. Fennelly wrote a report to Dr. Armstrong, who then contacted me to set up our consultation, which was on Friday, the 7th of February in St. Luke’s at 10am. I was a bit apprehensive seeing Armstrong again, as he was the man who frightened me so much with his “Worst Case Scenario” when I was first diagnosed. Since I saw Fennelly I’d had very swollen glands and I’ve also had a rather strange phenomenon, which I’m calling my “Travelling Wattle”, a sort of movable pad of flesh which is sometimes under my chin and sometimes half-and-half on each side of my jaw.  When it’s at my jaws I look like a sad chipmunk, and when under my chin I look like a doleful bloodhound. On Friday 7^th it was in chipmunk mode, and I looked very funny. Dr. Armstrong did his thing with the internal camera and also did a palpating exam. Afterwards he told his secretary to set up a CAT scan for me, which worried me a little, but then he said that he didn’t think he’s bother with that, and would just examine me again on the 4th of April. I said “Obviously I’m not out of the woods,” and he said “No, no green light but no red light either.” I said “Amber?” and he said, “If you press me I’d say to the green side of amber”. Now, coming from Dr. Armstrong I’m taking that as a very positive response. He said that there’s still just too much swelling from the radium treatment (even after two months) to be able to tell exactly what is the nature of the swellings, and the camera couldn’t pick it up either. But I feel sure that, knowing him, if he’d seen anything negative at all he’d have told me.

 

So now, Feb. 4th with Dr. Armstrong in Luke’s and Feb. 16th with Dr. Fennelly in Blackrock are the next check-ups. Hopefully the swellings will have gone down by then. Maybe I’ll even have my taste buds and saliva back! I’m a little disappointed that I have no final news about my condition, but in this case perhaps no news is good news.

 

It’s been a very strange 6 months, full of incredible highs and lows, and I’m wary of allowing myself to feel too hopeful but I feel quite positive about the outcome so far. I have agreed to do a 45-minute spot at the wedding reception of a friend of mine in May, as I think that this would be a good way to test myself in a solo situation again without the pressure of facing a paying audience.  If, after this, I feel that I’m happy with my performance I may start accepting solo engagements for later in the year. However, right now I don’t feel strong enough or confident enough to think of anything like that.

 

One thing that has cheered me up very much is that the Dubliners have invited me to join them as their special guest on some their European tours in the Autumn and Winter of 2003. This was an invitation that I immediately accepted with great joy, for various reasons. Obviously because it’s always a great pleasure to perform with my old friends, but also it gives me an opportunity to sing for so many of the people I missed when my solo tours were cancelled during last year because of my illness. It now seems the end of 2003 is looking as hopeful as its beginning!

 

My thanks again to all the good friends who have been so supportive over the last six or seven months, and I just hope you all realise how much it has meant to me. It has been a huge factor in my recovery which, I feel confident, will be confirmed in April.

 

I wish you all a wonderful 2003, and look forward to seeing as many of you as I can.

 

Slán,

 

Jim.