Writing and recording an album with my group, the Sweetheart Revue, has been therapeutic and provided precious solace in the aftermath of my diagnosis
![I was astronomically unlucky to get a rare cancer. Good job I was in a band](https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/c5246dedeec61c22bdde298ed7b74ec6627c1896/0_284_6058_3636/master/6058.jpg?width=1200&height=630&quality=85&auto=format&fit=crop&overlay-align=bottom%2Cleft&overlay-width=100p&overlay-base64=L2ltZy9zdGF0aWMvb3ZlcmxheXMvdGctb3BpbmlvbnMucG5n&enable=upscale&s=490b0c73f7718a6d4ca948dd80c8101c)
On 25 June 2019, it was a glorious sunny day in Glasgow. I spent the morning cheerfully packing suitcases with my wife, Jackie. I was a script writer by trade, and a songwriter with my Americana band the Sweetheart Revue, which had been ambling along for 14 years. For the first time in my precarious freelance career, I had money in the bank, a whole six months of work lined up, and we were flying out the next day for a special-treat holiday in Portugal with the kids. I had never felt so fortunate.
After lunch we walked our loving, neurotic mongrel Pepper by the River Kelvin. That’s when I got the call. I had been having headaches every day since
Christmas. My GP couldn’t explain them but was sure it was nothing serious. I finally had a CT brain scan just as the headaches seemed to be subsiding. Oh, the irony, I thought.
The situation’s getting pretty desperate, so it seems
But I’m remaining calm among the ashes of our dreams
They gave me months to a year, I tried to give them right back
Then I did pretty well under a radio attack