tag:danhill.com,2005:/blogs/news?p=2News2022-12-18T14:09:16-05:00Dan Hillfalsetag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247542022-12-14T00:00:00-05:002022-12-18T13:40:23-05:00Variety feature on soft-rock doc series 'Sometimes When We Touch'<p>Thank you Chris Willman at Variety for the feature on the new soft-rock doc, 'Sometimes When We Touch'. </p>
<p>Be sure to tune into Paramount+ on January 3, 2023 in Canada and the U.S., on Jan 4 2023 in U.K., Australia and Latin America and on Jan 4 2023 in Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Austria and France.</p>
<p>Click the image below to read the full article.</p>
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<p><span class="font_small"><a contents="" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://variety.com/2022/music/news/sometimes-when-we-touch-paramount-plus-soft-rock-documentary-series-1235458074/?fbclid=IwAR1tGvxAeRh68bP2TnpnDLiIDFotDAM8A_nTIPKTP1ve8iUpBvf1jKzlV5Y" target="_blank"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/e970bdcdeaefe082bb572b52dab7f44570a68e66/original/screen-shot-2022-12-18-at-12-46-18-pm.png/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></a></span></p>
<p> </p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247512022-12-14T00:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:05:45-05:00Official Trailer for new Soft Rock Documentary 'Sometimes When We Touch'<p>Check out the trailer for the upcoming 'Soft-Rock Doc, Sometimes When We Touch' below. Are you tuning in? Canada & U.S.: Jan 3 2023 U.K., Australia and Latin America: Jan. 4 2023 Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Austria and France: April 4 2023</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/25FuqBSSCdc" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247652022-10-18T00:00:00-04:002022-12-18T13:40:52-05:00The Queen Elizabeth II Platinum Jubilee - A Special 'Thank you' to Senator Oh.<p>I had the wonderful honour of being presented with a Queen Elizabeth II Platinum Jubilee Medal for outstanding contributions/service to Canada on Sunday, October 16th. </p>
<p>Special thanks to Senator Oh for nominating me and presenting me with the award!</p>
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<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/d20b9615be6e5b11780f40a8b821b7e8beef3e53/original/plat-1.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/d20b9615be6e5b11780f40a8b821b7e8beef3e53/original/plat-1.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71255772022-02-23T00:00:00-05:002023-04-18T16:25:19-04:00THE STORY OF SOMETHING MORE<p>By Dan Hill and Jully Black</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">(Dan) -- Hope, healing, and optimism. That’s the message I most wanted to give the world when I set out to write “Something More” with Jully Black close to two decades ago. A sense of aspiration, an awareness that something greater exists beyond what we can see or feel in the physical realm and an understanding that we can nurture deeper meaning and purpose in our lives. The words and music to “Something More” came to me in a blazing flash, one that flowed out of my fingers and onto the piano keys. As the lyrics started to form, a quote from the Bible guided me: “Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Jully was signed to Universal Music when we first met, and I was immediately overwhelmed by both her extraordinary talent and her preternatural presence. She radiated an enormous sense of empathy, spirituality and wisdom. When we started singing together, the first thing that hit me was the extraordinary and authentic quality of our vocal blend. Maybe our voices meld so seamlessly because we feel like family, united by something deeper than our careers. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Adam Messinger, who co-produced “Something More,” had a profound influence on this track. He is deservedly one of the most successful producers and songwriters in the world. Unquestionably, his inspired work on this record is major part of its remarkable impact. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Songs always come equipped with their own authentic stories. The story of “Something More” began long ago. But its journey shares something with the countless songs that become hits years, or even decades, after they’ve been written. “Something More” is being released now because of the timeliness of its message. With the seismic divisions and polarization that is tearing at this world today, redemption, aspiration, and healing have never been more relevant. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">(Jully) -- I remember going to Dan’s house and sitting and doing that writing session as a newly signed artist and writer to Warner Chappell – and I was just in awe of his story telling. ‘Something More’ was birthed out of the desire for a world – for me, an inner world and an outer world – that is inspirational, that is hopeful. Who knew what I might have been experiencing at that time, and who knew what Dan might have been experiencing? But both of us met up at this intersection of believing that there is always something more, something better. “Do you believe there’s a reason for everything?” Just that line in itself goes beyond religion; and now, twenty-something years later I’m able to look in hindsight and say, “Yes, there is a reason why we met up on that day. There is a reason why that song was written. The narrative felt, and still feels as personally necessary for me as it is globally relevant now, for all. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">That the song is coming out now is very timely because I’m on a healing journey and in order to heal from past pain and trauma, I have to believe that there is something more, something better, and that there is something I’m worthy of. Whatever that something is, it’s divinely ordered and assigned to my life; just like this song, the message and the opportunity to share a hopeful and optimistic sentiments during challenging times. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dan had, and has since, written songs for countless artists, but the parts that were to be sung by a male were destined to be sung by, and heard and felt in, Dan’s voice. Dan has a kind voice, and there is no question that ‘Something More’ required the kindness of Dan’s voice. He also has a voice that cries on the music, even if he’s not crying out of his eyes. It’s so rich, elegant, genuinely soulful and uniquely Dan. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">It’s a huge honour; it’s a huge privilege, a huge blessing to be able to have the sheer treasure that is Dan as a friend, a mentor and a peer. I think of the other amazing music journeys and collaborative opportunities that I’ve had and I see how being on this song is really helping me to realize that it needs to get the love and the attention that it deserves; I see how I don’t have to keep my head and creativity so razor-focused on the genres of R&B or the genre of Hip-Hop, but more so focused on music and story telling that will touch anyone with a heartbeat. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I’m so happy that Dan’s wants this to come out. With his beautiful voice on the song, at this stage in his career, when he really doesn’t have to do anything, I believe that he wants it to come out because of his love of music, his love for me, and that he is also doing this in service. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="font_small"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/6d88a7c1114abdfd7660e9553b664fdf2725e6a3/original/dan-hill-promo-for-steve-love.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247722021-03-29T13:00:00-04:002022-12-18T13:43:40-05:00How Muhammad Ali’s iconic Canadian debut brought Ontario’s human rights code into focus<p>Dan Hill got his love of the sport of boxing from this Father, Daniel Grafton Hill III, Ontario’s first human rights commissioner. </p>
<p>In March, 1966, Muhammad Ali was in Toronto to promote his match with George Chuvalo at Maple Leaf Gardens (which ‘earned immediate classic status’) after being banished in America over his opposition to the Vietnam war. During an interview, behind Muhammad Ali, hanging on the wall, was the Ontario Human Rights Code. </p>
<p>Was it intentionally placed there? Who put it there?</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full article here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.thestar.com/sports/2021/03/29/how-muhammed-alis-iconic-canadian-debut-brought-ontarios-human-rights-code-into-focus.html">Read the full article here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247742021-03-25T12:00:00-04:002022-12-18T13:47:12-05:00Dan Hill – LIVEstream IN CONCERT at El Mocambo<p>Dan Hill – LIVEstream IN CONCERT! </p>
<p>March 25th, 8:00pm EST. </p>
<p>Celebrating the global release of Dan’s latest album </p>
<p>‘On The Other Side Of Here’! </p>
<p>Streaming worldwide from the legendary El Mocambo in Toronto, Ontario, Canada! </p>
<p>DO NOT MISS THIS EVENT! </p>
<p>TICKET: $25.00 </p>
<p>VIP TICKET: $35.00 – VIP includes exclusive after concert Q&A with Special Guest Host, Canada’s Queen of RnB/Soul, Jully Black!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/77f28bdc20780f792c6b6e98014b45075bc3b455/original/danhill-el-mocambo-copy-2.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247762021-03-18T12:00:00-04:002022-12-18T13:49:06-05:00The Grammys, a 42-year retrospective, 1979 – 2021 - Written by Dan Hill<p>The Grammys, a 42-year retrospective, 1979 – 2021 </p>
<p>Dan Hill is one of Canada’s most successful singer-songwriters ever and author of the book I Am My Father’s Son: A Memoir Of Love And Forgiveness. He was recently inducted into the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame. What follows is a very personal accounting of his history with the Grammys, written in his own words with research assistance from (son) David Hill, Nathan Williams and Dirie Dirie). He recently released a new, 14 song album entitled ‘On the Other Side of Here’ that contains the topical and evocative song, What About Black Lives? He is set for a simulcast from the El Mocambo in Toronto a week today (March 25).</p>
<p><a contents="Read Dan's full article here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.fyimusicnews.ca/articles/2021/03/18/dan-hill-grammys-42-year-retrospective">Read Dan's full article here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247772021-02-26T12:00:00-05:002022-12-18T13:50:54-05:00CASHBOX MAGAZINE CANADA article on 'On The Other Side of Here'<p>Dan Hill has reached the peak of the proverbial songwriter mountain, induction into Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame. </p>
<p>“I have now been included with my heroes, my mentors my university professors Leonard Cohen, Gordon Lightfoot, Bruce Cockburn to name a few.. To be included in the same list as the these writers is the greatest honour and most humbling accomplishment in my career.” </p>
<p>Over his 40 plus year career Dan has had much success, not only as a songwriter but as a Grammy nominated Best Male Vocalist, Grammy winner as co-producer of “Seduces Me” on Celine Dion’s ‘Falling Into You’ album that topped 30 million in sales and the winner of five Juno Awards and recipient of the Harold Moon Award SOCAN’S Canadian Lifetime Achievement Award as well releasing multiple gold and platinum selling albums.</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full article here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://cashboxcanada.ca/features-cover-story/dan-hill-other-side-here/4682">Read the full article here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247782021-02-17T14:00:00-05:002022-12-18T13:52:59-05:00Hill’s Songwriter’s Award - A Reflection Of Lifelong Achievements by Keith Sharp - THE MUSIC EXPRESS<p>When you think of Dan Hill, you inevitably think of his global hit record, “Sometimes When We Touch”, not only a hit for him but for a whole slew of other star performers including Rod Stewart. Barry Manilow, Demi Roussos, Tammy Wynette (with Mark Gray), Tina Turner and Engelbert Humperdinck, initially released in 1977 on his third album for GRT/20 Century Records, titled `Longer Fuse” </p>
<p>But when Hill was inducted into the Canadian Songwriters’ Hall Of Fame Wednesday, February 10th on CTV’s Your Morning program, he could also cite credits that also include being an accomplished author, journalist and social activist spokesperson (Artists Against Racism) to complement his recording and songwriting talents.</p>
<p> </p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247802021-02-15T14:00:00-05:002022-12-18T13:57:28-05:00PODCAST: Dan talks about his career and his favourite song with Bruce Wylie, iHeartRADIO, Move 104.9<p><a contents="Listen here!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.iheartradio.ca/move/brockville/podcasts-more/dan-hill-the-latest-inductee-into-the-songwriters-hall-of-fame-1.14581482?mode=Article">Listen here!</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247882021-02-12T12:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:01:05-05:00‘I was born intense’: Dan Hill wears his emotions on his guitar strap. <p>‘I was born intense’: Dan Hill wears his emotion on his guitar strap. There’s a reason why sensitive singer-songwriters are called what they are. But some wear their emotions on their guitar straps a little heavier than most.</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full article with Brad Wheeler at The Globe and Mail, here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/music/article-i-was-born-intense-dan-hill-wears-his-emotions-on-his-guitar-strap/">Read the full article with Brad Wheeler at The Globe and Mail, here.</a></p>
<p> </p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247912021-02-10T14:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:05:45-05:00Dan spoke with Tom Power at Q on Sometimes When We Touch and his new album On the Other Side of Here<p>‘q’ with Tom Power.</p>
<p>Some songwriters write tunes that take on a life of their own; Sometimes When We Touch by Dan Hill is one of those songs. On Feb. 10, the Grammy and Juno-winning Canadian musician will be inducted into the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame. He joined Tom Power live on the air to discuss the honour, what it’s like to have a career-defining song and his forthcoming album, On the Other Side of Here.</p>
<p><a contents="Listen to the interview here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.cbc.ca/listen/live-radio/1-50-q/clip/15823943-singer-songwriter-dan-hill-sometimes-when-we-touch-album">Listen to the interview here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247932021-02-07T14:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:12:39-05:00CBC - The National / Interview with Ian Hanomansing<p>Dan talks to Ian Hanomansing about his long career, including overcoming his ‘albatross’ hit 'Sometimes When We Touch' and being inducted into the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame.</p>
<p><a contents="Watch here!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/1856114243929">Watch here!</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247922021-02-07T00:00:00-05:002023-10-16T11:06:23-04:00Canada Now - Jeff Sammut w/ Dan Hill - CanadaTalks SiriusXM 167<p>Dan joined Jeff Sammut on Canada Now discussing his newest album in 11 years “On The Other Side Of Here”.</p>
<p><a contents="Listen here!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://soundcloud.com/canadatalks/canada-now-jeff-sammut-with-dan-hill">Listen here!</a></p>
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<p> </p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247982021-02-04T12:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:20:15-05:00CANADIAN SONGWRITERS HALL OF FAME OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT<p><span class="font_large"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/5ae38ef6275cab2a5b5fbe290efbb132866438a4/original/hall-of-fame-no-pr-2-2048x1315-2.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247972021-02-04T12:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:16:29-05:00FYI Music News: Dan Hill Touched By Homegrown Hall of Fame Recognition<p>February 4th, 2021 by David Farrell. Dan Hill’s considerable, enviable and bankable talents will earn homegrown recognition next Wednesday (Feb. 10) with his induction into the Canadian Songwriters’ Hall of Fame on CTV’s Your Morning program.</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full article here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.fyimusicnews.ca/articles/2021/02/04/dan-hill-touched-homegrown-hall-fame-recognition?fbclid=IwAR0fPqnS-zOvZdWAe2qIAKIJAONvlyIlEk_y6ahUkI7hgp1oT0lGkPBEHgs#.YBx8lcgix14.facebook">Read the full article here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247942021-02-04T12:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:14:55-05:00CP24: Singer-songwriter Dan Hill heading into Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame<p>The Toronto-born singer-songwriter, whose 1977 hit “Sometimes When We Touch” melted hearts as it climbed the worldwide charts, has been selected for induction into the illustrious home of the country’s most influential songwriters.</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full article here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://Singer-songwriter%20Dan%20Hill%20heading%20into%20Canadian%20Songwriters%20Hall%20of%20Fame">Read the full article here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71248012020-12-13T12:35:00-05:002022-12-18T14:43:39-05:00Dec 13 2020: Dan and Lily Frost on Crooners and Songbirds – Zoomer Radio AM740 <p style="text-align: justify;">The extraordinary Tina Turner covered Dan’s smash hit ‘Sometimes When We Touch’ in 1979. How did that come to be? What inspired “Dark Side of Atlanta”? Canada’s Queen of RnB/Soul and triple-threat powerhouse Jully Black and the phenomenal, award winning actress and one of Canada’s foremost singers of gospel, blues and jazz, Jackie Richardson were featured on Dan and Joe Sealy’s incredible “The Railway Porters’ Song” in 2009. What inspired this song? </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Listen to Dan’s FULL interview below with Lily Frost on Crooners and Songbirds – Zoomer Radio AM740 for this and so much more including the inspiration behind Dan’s latest single “What About Black Lives?” and new album “On The Other Side Of Here“.</p>54:12Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71248082020-11-02T14:00:00-05:002022-12-18T14:34:44-05:00Dan's signs to US Distributor, Sun and Sky Records<p>Dan Hill has signed a record deal with WMG-partnered US label Sun and Sky Records in a deal brokered by good friend Paul Farberman. Dan writes the column to say: “I recorded this 14-song album over the past 4 months,” using the covid lockdown to “immerse myself in the recording process without distraction.”</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full column here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.fyimusicnews.ca/articles/2020/11/02/fyi-news-bulletin">Read the full column here.</a></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247552014-06-01T01:00:00-04:002022-12-19T21:15:09-05:00THE EARLY DAYS - A Personal Post<p>The Early Days </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Even before I’d released my first album in 1975, international performers were expressing interest in my songs. In 1972, when I was signed to RCA as a recording artist, I was introduced to label mate Jose Feliciano at a party in Toronto. I played Mr. Feliciano a song I’d just written, called “The Seed of Music,” which he fell in love with. He asked me to mail my demo of the song to his home address in America, along with any others I felt he might want to include on future recordings. But because I was “hoarding” my songs for my own artistic career, I didn’t follow through on Mr. Feliciano’s generous offer, although British jazz great Cleo Laine recorded “The Seed of Music” in 1973. (My music publisher at the time, had sent my song to Cleo Laine without my knowledge) The song was never included on any of Laine’s albums, but Ms. Laine more than made it up to me six years later, when she recorded “Sometimes When We Touch” as the title track of her ’79 release. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Shortly after singing for Jose Feliciano, I was flown to Manhattan to meet with Harry Belafonte; he had heard one of my demo tapes when performing at Toronto’s O’Keefe Centre (later renamed the Hummingbird Centre and now reborn as the Sony Centre for the Performing Arts). Belafonte had long been a generous mentor to up-and-coming singers, and I’ll always treasure his encouragement. I remember when I sat, agog, in his Manhattan office, while he blasted my songs from his speakers at full volume and sang along with unabashed gusto. Mr. Belafonte was particularly impressed with a song I’d written in the summer of ’73, titled “You Make Me Want to Be (a Father).” I wasn’t willing to give even him an exclusive on that song, however, as I considered it my best song at the time. In fact, I was convinced that it would eventually break my musical career wide open. And, as fate would have it, “You Make Me Want to Be” became my first big single in Canada, ensuring the success of my debut album and laying the groundwork for my future international singing career.</p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247582014-06-01T00:00:00-04:002022-12-19T21:15:52-05:00THE COMEBACK - A Personal Post<p style="text-align: justify;">In the late 80s, I experienced a brief resurgence in my singing career. Within a span of three years, I scored four top-three US Adult Contemporary hits. “Can’t We Try?” was #6 on the Billboard Hot 100 and went on to be Billboard’s Adult Contemporary Song of the Year for 1987. “Never Thought (That I Could Love)” hit #1 on Radio & Records Adult Contemporary chart in 1988, “Carmelia” peaked at #6. In 1989, “Unborn Heart” reached #2 on the AC charts. Also in 1989, a female singer named Celine Dion, then still largely unknown in English Canada, released her first successful radio single in Canada: “Can’t Live With You,” which I co-wrote. Celine and I also sang a duet, “Real Love,” on my ’89 album Wishful Thinking. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Although I continued to bang out my own records in the 90s, many of which placed highly on the US Adult Contemporary charts (“I Fall All Over Again” peaked at #3 in 1992), I’d grown weary of all the blood, sweat, tears, and politics that go into being a pop performer. To my great fortune, Celine Dion recorded a song (“Seduces Me”) that I co-wrote with John Sheard on her Grammy Award–winning album Falling Into You. (I also served as co-producer on “Seduces Me,” along with John Jones and Rick Hahn.) Because I played a part—along with at least a dozen other producers—in putting together Celine Dion’s thirty million plus selling album, I was awarded a Grammy. I found this rather ironic, as I’m a far better singer and songwriter than producer. Not that I was complaining. (I’d earned an earlier Grammy nomination in 1979, for male vocal performance of the year for “Sometimes When We Touch,” but lost to Barry Manilow, who, you guessed it, went on to record “Sometimes When We Touch”, releasing it as a single in 1998.)</p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71247562014-06-01T00:00:00-04:002022-12-19T21:15:34-05:00 DAN THE MID 70’S RECORDING ARTIST - A Personal Post<p style="text-align: justify;">Once my debut album, Dan Hill, was released in 1975, I concentrated solely on my own singing and recording career. Any cover versions of my songs simply came from people hearing my records on the radio or playing them on their living-room stereos. Although some of my songs—such as “You Say You’re Free” and “Hold On” (from my first and second albums, respectively)—were cut by several artists, “Sometimes When We Touch” (which I co-wrote with legendary songwriter Barry Mann) turned into the “mother of all covers.” It enjoyed renditions by singers from every continent, in every style, and was translated into several languages. Tina Turner, Rod Stewart, Barry Manilow, Tammy Wynette, Lynne Anderson, Donny Osmond, Rodney Crowell and Roseanne Cash are only a few of the artists who have covered it. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Despite this interest from other artists, I remained fixated throughout the 70s on my own singing career. I didn’t seriously consider the option of writing for other singers until 1981. That year, over breakfast one morning, I banged out a lyric to a John Parker melody, which was cut by the Latin heartthrob of the day, Camilo Sesto. That cover brought in more royalties for me than Partial Surrender, my album released the same year, which I’d spent 18 months writing and recording. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself. “There’s a message here.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Indeed. The following year I co-wrote “In Your Eyes” with the brilliant and vastly successful composer Michael Masser. “In Your Eyes” became an international smash for George Benson, actually charting higher in some territories than my original recording of “Sometimes When We Touch.” Jeffrey Osborne also recorded “In Your Eyes,” turning it into an Adult Contemporary (AC) hit in the United States in 1986. It also crossed onto the American R&B charts. The vocal blessings of Benson and Osborne encouraged many other artists to cut the song. I even recorded it myself in 1994, turning it into a duet with Rique Franks; it peaked at #10 on America’s Radio and Records AC charts.</p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71248102013-05-31T14:00:00-04:002022-12-18T14:41:05-05:00CTV News: Dan shares his battle with cancer<p>Award-winning singer-songwriter Dan Hill is in London, not for a musical performance, but to speak about his battle with cancer. </p>
<p>He's sharing his story before an audience at the Hilton Hotel, to raise awareness about the disease and support the Canadian Cancer Society's donor legacy campaign. </p>
<p>Hill shot to fame with the song ‘Sometimes when we touch,’ but years later he was in the spotlight for a very different reason - disclosing his very personal battle with prostate cancer.</p>
<p><a contents="Read the full article here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://london.ctvnews.ca/juno-winner-dan-hill-shares-cancer-battle-1.1305798">Read the full article here.</a></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/664221/66fb04489bcc358a24e1acd4474dac5bd4773a09/original/danhillctvimage-3-1024x574.jpeg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>Dan Hilltag:danhill.com,2005:Post/71248092012-04-16T14:00:00-04:002022-12-18T14:45:24-05:00MACLEANS: Running from Cancer, written by Dan Hill.<p style="text-align: justify;"><a contents="MACLEANS" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://m.publishing.rogers.com/macleans/share/2012-14/11a_soc_danhill.html">MACLEANS</a> – Running from Cancer: One in seven men in Canada will face prostate cancer. Almost none of them will ever talk about it. A strikingly candid account from singer, songwriter and author Dan Hill. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">On the evening of Oct. 20, 2011, I was backstage, 30 minutes from performing a two-hour concert in Cambridge, Ont., when my cell went off. Caller ID flashed the name of the world-renowned urologist to whom I’d been referred: Dr. Robert Nam. Since when, in this world of wildly overbooked doctors, did elite specialists call patients in the evening? Guitar in one hand, cellphone in the other, I shuddered, flashing back on the two visits I’d had with Dr. Nam over as many weeks. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">It had been under unrelenting pressure from my wife and family doctor that I’d first agreed to visit Dr. Nam, at Toronto’s Sunnybrook hospital. My most recent blood test showed my PSA (prostate specific antigen) to be slightly high: a possible indicator of cancer. Knowing that PSA tests are replete with false positives, I regarded my result as a false alarm. I’d even cancelled a biopsy my former urologist had scheduled two years earlier, so certain was I of my infallibility. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">What was I thinking? Cancer had recently claimed the lives of two of my closest friends: Paul Quarrington, a Governor General Award-winning author and musician, and the celebrated Juno-feted soul singer Haydain Neale. Haydain had lived on my street, and I’d visited him almost daily. Paul, my lifelong friend, had collaborated with me on a song about staring down a fatal cancer diagnosis. Rarely a day went by where I didn’t talk to Paul. I’d witnessed the blow-by-blow ravages of cancer at close range, as it viciously took down two people I loved. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Thoughts of Paul and Haydain haunted me as I valet-parked my car at Sunnybrook. Valet parking at a hospital? What next, I thought, a Morton’s steak house next to the palliative care unit? </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Indeed, the sensation of sweeping luxury followed me through the hospital’s revolving doors and onto its polished granite floors. Certainly, the charm of Sunnybrook is that it feels, at first glance, more like a cathedral than a medical institution. Its expansive atrium boasts a sky-lit ceiling that appears to brush against the clouds. With sunlight illuminating the mounted names of donors, Sunnybrook virtually sparkles. However, the welcoming gleam of its architectural splendour quickly faded, as I recalled where I was headed. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The urology wing was buried deep on the bottom floor, accessed through a labyrinth of twisting hallways. Entering the waiting room, I was immediately struck by the disquieting, almost cruel contrast between the receptionists (all female, young and vivacious) and the patients (male, aging, grim and exhausted). </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Mercifully, within minutes of my scheduled appointment, I was sitting in Dr. Nam’s office. Before he even had a chance to read my medical history, I blurted out my greatest, really my only, concern. “Dr. Nam, I’m not getting a rectal today, am I? This is, well, um, our first meeting.” My flailing attempt at humour caused the doctor’s mouth to pucker into a bemused half-smile. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“No, Mr. Hill, you can relax. I don’t need to examine you, I have all the information I need.” Emboldened, my second question sounded unintentionally like a challenge: “Okay, based on my PSA, what are my chances of having cancer?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dr. Nam was already typing my stats into a computer, lost in a fixed concentration that called to mind a 12-year-old entranced by his Xbox. I imagined my body, replete with its risk factors—being black, diabetic and an occasional binge drinker—as a mere algorithm being solved. Caught between staring at the doctor’s face and the flashing computer monitor, I almost missed his answer. Or maybe I just didn’t want to hear it. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“You have a 12 to 23 per cent chance of having aggressive prostate cancer.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Aggressive. Prostate. Cancer. Never had I heard three such vile words strung together. Of the three, “aggressive” cut the deepest. Hard as I tried to spin a negative 23 per cent into its positive—a 77 per cent chance of being healthy—the numbers and probabilities started to blur together. I was vaguely aware of a disembodied voice, mine, asking: “When can I have a biopsy?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Dr. Nam cautioned. “Many people with your odds pass up the biopsy. It’s an invasive procedure and with your diabetes, chances of infection and fever are quite high.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I insisted on the biopsy, trying to push back the sickening realization that had I allowed the biopsy to take place two years ago, any cancer would have been caught early. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“The actual procedure only takes about 10 minutes,” explained Dr. Nam. “You’ll experience quite a bit of bleeding afterwards—in your urine, your rectum, and possibly in your semen?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">My semen? That seemed like the ultimate indignity. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Before leaving Sunnybrook, I checked in with Dr. Nam’s assistant, Jen, to book my biopsy. “We do biopsies on Mondays,” she said, brightly. “What date and time would you like?” Feeling as though I were signing up for a yoga class, I booked early afternoon the following Monday. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I’d swaggered into the hospital feeling fit and cocky. I left feeling bruised and ancient. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">In Canada, one in seven men will develop prostate cancer. Although over 85 per cent of prostate cancer is curable if detected and treated early, each year 4,100 people out of 25,500 diagnosed with this disease will die. Not only is it the most common cancer for men, it’s largely asymptomatic: for every man diagnosed with prostate cancer, there are several men who have no idea that their prostate may well be a ticking time bomb. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Some studies have indicated that close to 30 per cent of men in their thirties unknowingly have the beginnings of prostate cancer, but they will most likely die with it, rather than from it. Nevertheless, underestimating the potential lethality of this cancer is like nuzzling up to a domesticated wild animal. Nine times out of 10 the lion may purr, but that tenth time, he will chew you up alive. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Men, unlike women, are reluctant to share their health challenges with anyone. This is especially true with men that have this disease, as it strikes right to the core of their masculinity. (One “minor” side effect of living a prostate-free life: no more ejaculations during orgasm. What, pray tell, would that feel, or not feel like? Devouring chocolate cake without icing? Slurping ice cream without the cream?) In a world where virility, in all its permutations, is regarded as a man’s greatest virtue, prostate cancer feels but one step removed from serving out your life as a castrato in a perpetually prepubescent choir. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">As I reclaimed my car, the valet attendant trumpeted, “Dan Hill, holy s–t, you’re my hero! I’ll only charge you half price.” After insisting on paying in full and tipping him for recognizing me (this NEVER happens), the young man looked into my face, about to say thank you. Instead, he caught himself. “Mr. Hill, is something wrong?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“I think I may have cancer.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">There. I’d done it; uttered the “c” word to an absolute stranger. The young man stepped back, as if I might be contagious. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Oct. 17, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dr. Nam enters the biopsy room all smiles. I’m naked from the waist down, wearing one of those flimsy pale blue hospital gowns—two gowns actually, tied around me in opposite directions. In my anxious state I’ve tangled up the gowns so badly that my genitals keep popping out like contrary hand puppets. I am on the examination table. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Mr. Hill, can you curl up your knees closer to your chest?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“What, no foreplay?” I quip. Jesus, could I be any more exposed and powerless? Trembling despite the warmth of the room, I confess, “Look, I’m a total wimp. I can only endure this procedure by carrying on a conversation. About anything other than what you’re actually doing to me. The talking will relax me.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Of course, Mr. Hill. We call that ‘verbal anaesthesia.’ And so far you’re doing just fine.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“But we haven’t started yet.” My words are already coming in broken gasps. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Most men are squeamish but pretend to be tough, and they’re the ones who faint before the procedure even gets started.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“I’m going to level with you, Dr. Nam,” I croak. “I’m a singer and most of the noise bellowing out of my supercharged vocal chords will come in the form of profanities.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Swear all you like, but try not to scream. You’ll frighten the other patients.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I take the pillow and stuff it into my mouth. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“That’s right,” Dr. Nam says, as if remembering something, “someone mentioned that you’re a singer. We should discuss you doing a fundraiser for prostate cancer.” His request is followed by a playful laugh. Is he having me on to lighten the mood? </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Sure,” I blubber, astonished by his bedside jocularity. Whatever: given my compromised position, had Dr. Nam asked me to prance into Toronto Mayor Rob Ford’s office trilling Tiptoe Through the Tulips, I would have consented. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">An ultrasound probe is slowly nudged inside the rectum to transmit an image of the prostate onto a screen. This serves as a map that Dr. Nam can use to locate and remove small tissues, or cores, from my prostate—12 in total. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Don’t move. Try to relax your muscles,” Dr. Nam says. I force my hamstrings, tighter than a 100-m hurdler’s, to decompress. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The probe removed, the doctor reaches for his arsenal of needles. “I’m going to give you extra freezing,” he says cheerfully, like I’ve won a prize for good behaviour. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“How much pain are you feeling?” This after I feel the slight ping of the first needle. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Arrgh—!*@#.” My teeth-indented, drool-sopped pillow looks like a pack of wild coyotes have mistaken it for a poodle. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Okay, I’m going to start the biopsy now.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Every removal of a tissue sample is preceded by what sounds like the snapping of an oversized stapler. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“How . . . do . . . you . . . like . . . your . . . job?” As the words hiccup out of me, I wonder how anyone can tolerate a job with scenes like this one. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“I love my job. Curing people of cancer. Preventing cancer. This is what I live for.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The way Dr. Nam says this, neither earnest nor pompous, but more out of wonderment, leaves me strangely moved. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Oct. 20, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Three and a half days later, at 7.30 p.m., I get the call backstage. “Thirty minutes before showtime,” a canned announcement blares, all but drowning out the tentative voice on my cellphone. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Hi Dan, it’s Dr. Nam. I don’t usually tell patients their diagnosis over the phone. But your results took a little longer because of special staining, I didn’t want to leave you hanging.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Special staining? Yikes. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dan, because of your unique travel schedule I felt it only right to reach out to you. When can you come into my office?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">An office invite. That’s it. Bad news. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“I can’t make it in,” I answer. “ I’m out on the road for a week. Better that I hear the news now.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">There is a frightening silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a non-sequitur so peculiar I nearly drop the guitar I am cradling. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Have I told you, Dan, that I’m reading your book I Am My Father’s Son and loving it? I feel as though I know your whole family now.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I’m not feeling particularly bullish about this conversation. I play along, frenetically searching for clues in the tone of Dr. Nam’s voice, trying to predict what the verdict is. I’m of two minds: 1) He’s buttering me up to soften the blow. 2) No, if I had cancer he’d get straight to the point. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Twenty minutes before showtime,” crackles an announcement over the speakers backstage. I’d forgotten where I was. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dan, you have cancer. The severity is measured on something called the Gleason Scale. You’re seven on the Gleason scale. If 10 is the worst and five is barely noticeable, you’re right in the middle. We have to examine your biopsy results more thoroughly before we can determine just how far the cancer has spread. I know this comes as a shock, but this is a highly treatable cancer.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“How’s it treated?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Your treatment options are wide open. You and I will review your choices once we know more. There’s no need to panic and rush into a decision. Meanwhile, just keep doing what you’re doing. Live life. Above all, enjoy yourself.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Enjoy myself? I feel flattened, squashed, like a bug on a windshield. How could my body betray me like this? </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dan? Dan? Are you still there?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dr. Nam, I’ll take the surgery. The sooner the better. I want this thing out.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Are you sure?” Dr. Nam is asking. “You’ll have a far greater chance of incontinence, especially considering your diabetes. The incontinence would make it difficult for you to perform.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">What I don’t know at this moment is that if the cancer has spread beyond my prostate, to my lymph nodes and then my bones, surgery will not be an option. It will be too late. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dan, you’re on stage in five minutes,” the manager of the hall interrupts. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dr. Nam, I’ll take the surgery.” I’d gone robotic, my words stuck on repeat. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Okay. We’ll book you for early December.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I make two calls. One is to Larry; I have to tell my brother that his chances of getting prostate cancer have just doubled. His palpable concern leaves me more upset. He abruptly stops everything to drive an hour to be with me. Then I call my wife, Bev. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Oh no, no, no, I can’t believe this. You’re the healthiest person I know.” Her voice sounds so broken and small it smashes my heart. “I should be with you. I have to be with you.” She’s sobbing. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Bad idea,” I snap. “You’d have to borrow a car, drive all the way here in the dark and then return home in the middle of the night.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Don’t do that thing you always do,” Bev pleads. “You’re already starting to freeze me out—like you always do when there’s a crisis.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">It would take me a while to realize that prostate cancer wasn’t just about me. It was just as much about Bev. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I wander on stage in a fugue state and spend the next two hours singing as though I might never sing again. I don’t remember a single detail about the performance. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I also make it through the next two shows without a hitch. It is the 22 hours in between that I am a mess. Everything—remembering where I’d left my wallet, my cellphone, my hotel and car keys, packing my suitcase for the next town—represents an impossible task. My usual self-discipline decimated, I gorge on fast food—what difference does it make now?—sprinting to the hotel bar after each show, jonesing for that blottoed numbness I hadn’t felt since my father’s last days eight years earlier. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">To be away from my wife leaves me feeling the strangest kind of lonely. How can I explain to her, to anyone, that I need the aloneness of the road to rage unwatched at my cancer? This disease feels personal, more vindictive than a heart attack or stroke. Cancer is calculating, a monster deliberately festering in your body, like some deranged alien, for one simple reason. To kill you. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">More than anything, it is the unwavering love of my family that keeps me from falling apart. The nighttime is the worst. Sometimes, when the sadness and fury almost paralyze me, I silently press my head firmly against Bev’s shoulder while she watches The Bachelor, till the warmth of her body, bit by bit, soothes me. I lose track of the times she wakes me in the throes of a nightmare, my limbs thrashing, each dream suffused with scenes of me dying. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“No, Dan, you won’t die.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“How do you know?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">She holds my perspiring face in her delicate hands and finds a way to talk me out of my hysteria. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“I won’t let you. Dr. Nam won’t let you. Most of all, you won’t let you. Besides, you’re too obsessive and proud to die.” No matter how many times Bev tells me this, I have to hear her say it, over and over again, night after night. And still, though I never mention this to her, part of me feels irrevocably broken. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Oct. 24, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Mid-morning it comes. An email detailing the pathology of my biopsy for metastases. (I’d had to give Dr. Nam permission to map it out in an email.) Leaping out in bold letters are three words. NEGATIVE FOR MALIGNANCY. Knowing that cancer might still be lurking beneath the radar, Dr. Nam books a MRI for Dec. 8. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">While I still regard the surgical removal of my prostate as my safest option, I decide to explore radiation as another possibility. Realistically, options are determined by several factors: age, health, fitness level and, most critically, the aggressiveness of your cancer. Maddeningly, everyone from specialists to patients to expert authors has a different opinion as to the right course to take. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">In my case, the first advantage of a radical prostatectomy is that the rate and spread of the cancer can be accurately analyzed. And, with my prostate removed, I will not have to worry about the cancer returning. While radiation therapy is less invasive with fewer side effects, questions remain. Might a cancer recur? In five years? 10 years? Never? Whatever the answer, if it does recur, the prostate will have been too damaged by radiation to be removed by surgery and properly evaluated. Lastly, radiation wipes out healthy tissue along with the cancerous, and I am not crazy about the temporary damage my body would endure. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Still, radiation will leave me far less vulnerable to the possibilities of impotence and incontinence. I am faced with an impossible choice: quality of life (meaning, essentially, quality of sex life) versus duration of life. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“How hard are your erections?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Huh? </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The first nurse speaks with a strong Pakistani accent, leaving me to think that I’d misheard her. If only. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dr. Nam set up a meeting so I could discuss radiation options with a radiation oncologist, but neglected to tell me that beforehand, I’d be in for a no-nonsense Q & A by two thirtysomething nurses that leaves me feeling as though I am auditioning for a porn flick. “Compared to when you were 18, how hard are your erections now?” the nurse qualifies, her unflinching stare causing me to squirm in my chair. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I confess that I can’t recall the varying quality of my erections over the span of my sex life. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Do you ever have problems penetrating due to a weak erection?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">This from the second nurse, whose South African accent exudes a quaint properness that leaves me feeling vaguely guilty of something. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Do you ever have problems maintaining an erection during intercourse?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">And, before I can answer: “Are your orgasms ever painful?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">A painful orgasm? Inconceivable, I think. I play it safe, sticking to one-word answers (no, no, no). I grudgingly admire the pluck, the unflappability of these nurses as they calmly scribble notes. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The doctor appears, calls me into his office and gets right down to business. “Brachytherapy [high-dose radiation therapy] is your best bet,” he advises. “Odds are you’ll survive the radiation with an undiminished sex drive. Furthermore, there’s almost zilch chance of incontinence and no one I’ve carried out this procedure on has died during my radiation therapy.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Well, that comes as a relief. I ask him which procedure, of the two, he would choose. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“If I was a fit 57-year-old man, with no symptoms, I would definitely opt for HDRT. As for the chance that your cancer has spread to your bones, there’s no way you’d be running 10 miles a day on concrete without any back, knee, hip or joint pain.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">There is another consideration. Radical prostatectomy means at best 48 hours in a hospital. And I am in for at least a six-week recovery period, with close to half that time being catheterized. With HDRT, I’d be in and out of the hospital in four hours, catheter-free, conceivably able to resume my life and work without a hitch. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Later that week, I am back in Dr. Nam’s office, more torn than ever over which course to take. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Look at it this way, Dan,” Dr. Nam tells me, as we discuss my likely side effects following a radical prostatectomy. “As a 57-year-old diabetic it’s remarkable you’re still sexually active. Chances are, you’re going to be facing, sooner than later, erectile dysfunction. And hey, worse comes to worst you can give yourself a needle at the base of your penis containing a triple mix of drugs and wham . . . ”—grinning fiendishly, Dr.Nam shoots up his right forearm as if he was about to spike a volleyball—“you’ll be as hard as a 17-year-old.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">This makes for fascinating science, but really, erection injections as foreplay followed by sex-as-practice to regain full function post-surgery sounds about as titillating as a three-way with Bill O’Reilly and Newt Gingrich. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Late November, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The need to feel in control of my health causes me to turn my running, cycling and weight workouts into a full-time job. By the end of November I am in the best shape of my life. One day while I am running, a cyclist blows by me, then brakes and asks: “Hey Dan, when’s your surgery?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">So the word is spreading. Or had he seen me crying? Why was I crying? Because, as my heart rate rose to 160 bpm, something clicked. Get the damned cancer out through surgery. It’s not just about you and your oh-so-sacred erections. You have a family to consider. As I walk up the street to my house, I realize my tears came not from sadness, but from a huge measure of relief at finally making a decision. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dec. 12, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Four days had passed since my MRI and, unable to bear the suspense much longer, I email Dr. Nam and his assistant Jen. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Jen, efficient and friendly, immediately replies: </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Hi Dan, They did come back. I left it with Dr. Nam to look at today. I will let you know what he says tomorrow. Have a good night.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">That night I give Bev a flow chart of all my songs, mapping out who published what, and when each schedule of royalty payment is expected. How could I have published over a thousand songs and never bothered to break down such a convoluted royalty trail, in the event that I predeceased my wife? That I need another task, something to distract me, is not lost on Bev. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dec. 13, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">My first email of the day is from Dr. Nam: “Below is the official report. No evidence of spread. Great news.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Rather than being overjoyed, I simply find something new to worry about. Facing surgery the following morning, I panic. Less than 24 hours before my surgery, I send Dr. Nam this Hail-Mary email: “Given that based on the MRI cancer is showing in only one place, is there any reason to reconsider surgery on the 14th?” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Blessed with indefatigable patience, Dr. Nam writes back: “The purpose of the MRI is to determine whether there is spread. It doesn’t change the situation of the prostate itself. There are other areas within the prostate that the MRI has not picked up (too small). Need to stay the course.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Despite constant reassurance from everyone, I can’t shake the fear that I won’t make it through surgery. Irrational? Certainly. But it still seems irrational that I had cancer in the first place. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dec, 14, 2011 </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">It’s 6 a.m. and I’m in the pre-surgery waiting room. Dazed and mildly incoherent from no solid food for the last 30 hours, no fluids for the last four and an antibiotic so big and powerful I can barely swallow, much less tolerate it, I am no longer terrified of dying on the operating table. I have no energy left to feel much of anything. I hear my name called by the front desk. The woman behind the glass hands me back my hospital card. The simple task of writing my birthdate down demands more hand-eye coordination than I can muster. I glance down at my illegible signature and it’s a dead ringer for Dad’s unreadable scrawl, once he’d lost all semblance of fine motor control. Because my brother Larry is also here, a lot of this harkens back to our father’s final days in the hospital. I see the love and concern on my brother’s face and wonder if he’s seeing me, the older brother, as a jarring echo of our waiting periods with Dad, before his amputations. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Minutes before I’m escorted into surgery, I’m instructed to give Bev my wedding ring, something that hasn’t left my finger for 30 years. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">There’s a theatrical air to an operating room, as though some spectacle is about to take place. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“What kind of music would you like to hear, Dan?” asks Dr. Nam, like we’re at a dance club and he’s the DJ. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Brahms,” I answer, knowing Dr. Nam has a love of classical music. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Done,” he says with remarkable cheer. The last thing I remember is Dr. Nam pronouncing to the room, “We can’t do surgery on Dan Hill without music.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">When I wake I don’t know where I am. Who I am. But I don’t care, I feel incredible, as though I’m floating around in a drug-infused heaven. I’m flying through space, and the voices I’m hearing blend together like a choir led by Sam Cooke and Aretha Franklin. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Dan? Do you know where you are?” It’s Dr. Nam. I look up and see his face glowing. “Your surgery was a textbook success. No cancer spreading and only minimal bleeding.” I hear cheering. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Thank you for saving my life,” I whisper, then I fall into a gloriously deep sleep. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Within days of my surgery, a pathology of my prostate reveals that only 10 per cent was cancerous and that it was completely confined within the prostate gland. Of my catheter, which leaves me feeling impaled for 17 days, the less said the better. The day after it is removed, I start running. I don’t recommend this—intense activities are discouraged for at least six weeks post-surgery—but it is my way of saying “f–k you, cancer.” I’m still here, kicking and screaming and sucking up life in huge, hungry gasps. As for sex? </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">A few weeks ago, Dr. Nam advised me to “get back in the saddle the sooner the better.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“But what about the studies showing it sometimes takes years to get blood flow going again?” I asked, shocked given our pre-op discussions. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“If you can already run 10 miles, then you have great circulation and you’re ready to try making love. Practise with your wife every day, and even if it’s not working, practice will speed recovery.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Hedging my bets, I asked Dr. Nam to set me up with the doctor who specialized in “erection injections.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Certainly,” Dr. Nam said, “ I’ll arrange a meeting with you and Dr. Cox.” </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Dr. Cox? Sometimes, even while staring down mortality, you just have to laugh your ass off.</p>Dan Hill