Then I told him: ‘I have been diagnosed with breast cancer and I have to go into hospital next week for a mastectomy.’
I could hear him gasp on the phone. Michael immediately offered to help in any way he could.
I assured him that I was fine and that everything would be okay.
‘I’ll be out of action for a couple of days after the op, but I’ll be back at the auditions next week,’ I said.
Michael was surprised by this and urged me to take as much time as I needed to recover and to get back to full health.
At this stage we were starting the preparations for a major tour that was generating huge excitement among fans because it was going to feature Michael dancing in the production again after a break of thirteen years.
‘Michael Flatley Returns as Lord of the Dance’, the adverts declared. The timing of my cancer couldn’t have been worse from a professional point of view.
Speaking with Michael that day I could hear his genuine concern for me. He said he would be praying for everything to go well with the operation and would keep in regular contact with Mike, which he did. Michael and his wife, Niamh, kept in constant communication throughout the whole procedure.
My husband Mike had accompanied me on the trip to Dubai and he kept my spirits up during that trip. It was only on the last night that he let his guard down. We were in an outside bar at our gorgeous hotel, and the people in the show who were aware of my diagnosis and impending surgery were coming up to me and wishing me luck. After everyone had gone and it was just the two of us having a glass of wine, Mike broke down and sobbed.
People tend to forget what a partner or spouse is coping with in those situations. In our case it was fear of the unknown, as the prognosis wasn’t good. The medical team didn’t paint a bright picture to either of us, so the Sacred Heart had a lot of work to do.
My operation was carried out on a Wednesday in BMI The Harbour Hospital, a private hospital run by BMI Healthcare, and I was brought in the night before and prepped. I was taken to the theatre early the following morning and given an anaesthetic. When I woke up four or five hours later it was all over. I was groggy, but I remember feeling fairly okay. Abigail Evans, my consultant, came around after a while and told me that she was quite pleased with the way the operation had gone.
Abigail didn’t hold anything back from me. She said my cancer had been very aggressive and she had to remove eleven lymph nodes, which was quite a lot. She also informed me that one tumour had moved out of the area and up my neck, but she was confident that she had also removed all of that bad stuff.
Mike, of course, was by my side and quite relieved that it was all over and apparently very successful. Needless to say, Mike was kept busy on the phone dealing with calls from our respective families and friends. Michael Flatley, as promised, was a regular caller, as was Niamh.
Abigail Evans came to me the following day and announced that she was extremely pleased with my progress, which gave me a great boost. Then on the Friday morning Abigail told me I could go home, which was just the best news to hear.
Vicky, my stepdaughter, and her husband, Mark, and their children, Aaron and Chloe, were there at the time. I insisted that we all stop at Harbour Heights on the way home for lunch, which we did – and, of course, I ordered a bottle of champagne!
That weekend I was full of beans, so Mike and I invited some local friends around to the house. They couldn’t believe that I was up partying and dancing around, and kept urging me to sit down and rest.
The following weekend was going to be a big challenge for me with the huge auditions at Pineapple Studios in London’s Drury Lane for Michael Flatley Returns as Lord of the Dance.
We were looking for new singers, dancers, musicians and one of the leading roles, the Little Spirit. It was too big and too late to cancel at that point as people were flying in from places like America for the chance to join the show.
As I’ve said before, there are no better people than the Irish dance community to rally around in times of need. My friend James McCutcheon from Scotland immediately offered to fly down and run the auditions for me. Another friend, Hilary Joyce-Owens, who runs a lovely Irish dance school in London called Scoil Rince Céim Óir, insisted on giving up her time to work at the auditions.
Lord of the Dance tour manager Peter Mersey assured me that everything would run smoothly as he’d also be there to organise the event.
All of those offers of support took a lot of pressure off me, but I just couldn’t let go. While I was so grateful to have my friends around me, I insisted on being there to conduct the process, and Mike agreed to drive me down.
‘I’ll sit down and I’ll be good,’ I promised him.
The turnout for the Lord of the Dance auditions that day was just massive. There were lines of people for the four or five studios that were booked for the dancers, singers and musicians.
Dance captains like Bernadette Flynn and Damien O’Kane were there, as were Ashling and Dave McCabe and Sarah Frances Smith. We had taken over all the studio, so I divided up the auditions among them. The dancers had the main studio and it was absolutely crammed.
I remember one funny incident from that day when we were auditioning for the female fiddle players in the show. We had every calibre of musician turning up for the roles, including some who had come straight out of orchestras.
One young woman arrived in with her fiddle and bow, plus a stand and sheet music. As fans will know, our fiddle players dance energetically while playing in Lord of the Dance.
Peter Mersey shot me a glance as if to say, ‘This is going to be interesting!’, when the young woman began her performance.
She played a tune beautifully and then I said, ‘Now can you dance around as you are playing?’
With that, she picked up the music stand and tried to hop around with the bow, fiddle … and the music stand!
It was the most hilarious thing I’d ever seen.
I didn’t dare look over at Pete because I knew that we would both explode with laughter and I’d have to be picked up off the floor. Somehow I managed to keep a straight face.
That was a full-on day, starting at 8.30 a.m. and finishing at 6 p.m. Although all my wonderful friends rallied around me to run the auditions, it was very hard for me to sit back and watch somebody else directing and before long I was hopping around the floor.
Poor Mike nearly had a heart attack over my antics.
‘Hilary, will you take her out,’ he pleaded.
‘James, will you get her to sit down.’
That was just a week after my operation, so I had meant it when I said that while cancer was a bummer I wasn’t going to let it change my life.
I wasn’t going to sit in a chair moaning about it.
Of course, it was challenging at times, particularly when I started the chemo treatment. But you just have to soldier on, and you cling to the fact that eventually there will be light at the end of the tunnel.
Before my cancer was diagnosed, Mike and I had booked a villa in Cyprus where we’d intended to spend three months on holiday that summer. We had contacted some of our families and close friends and invited them to come and join us at intervals.
Peter Mersey and his wife Beverley had a home in Cyprus and we’d fallen in love with the island when we went to visit them.
We found a lovely villa through the internet, flew over for a weekend to see it, and promptly booked it for the summer. Then we got out our diary and booked in dates for our various visitors to come and chill and party with us during the three months.
As we relaxed in the sunshine at the villa that weekend and clinked our wine glasses, Mike and I were so excited about the few months of great fun that lay ahead. But, as they say, people make plans and God smiles.
Little did I know that it would be the first and last time I’d spend there.
Shortly after I started the chemo treatment, our friends James and Noreen McCutcheon were due to fly out to the villa. I couldn’
t make the trip, but, with great difficulty, I persuaded Mike to join them. He didn’t want to leave me on my own as I was reacting in all sorts of ways to the chemo, and he only agreed to go after I arranged for some friends to come and stay with me when he was away. This put his mind at rest as he was happy that there would be someone in the house with me if I needed help.
Lord of the Dance star Bernadette Flynn had become like family to me. From the day we met our friendship grew and grew, and it was Bernadette who first came to stay with me when Mike flew out to Cyprus on the August bank holiday weekend.
I woke up at 4 a.m. as Mike was getting up to go to the airport, and immediately I felt that my throat was very sore. I decided not to say anything to Mike as he wouldn’t have gone ahead with his plans.
Later that morning I drove to the airport to pick up Bernadette, and my throat was no better. I didn’t mention it to Bernadette either. We had a quiet evening at home in the house, and then we both retired to bed.
During the night my throat kept me awake, so early next morning I got up and phoned an emergency line but couldn’t get an answer. Bernadette came down and when she realised I wasn’t well she chastised me for not calling her earlier. She then accompanied me as I drove to BMI The Harbour Hospital in Poole.
My own nurses and doctors were off as it was a bank holiday, so I was examined by staff on call, who gave me a prescription for antibiotics and sent me home.
On Monday morning I was still no better, so I rang my breast cancer nurse who spoke to the oncologist. I was then told to come to the hospital immediately. It transpired that I had some sort of fungus in my throat and it was very badly infected.
‘We are admitting you to the hospital straight away,’ I was informed by Lesley May, the breast cancer nurse.
So I was sent to the intensive care unit of Poole Hospital, which was just across the road from the BMI. The oncologist was very upset that I had been allowed to go home the day before.
I phoned James in Cyprus and filled him in, although I didn’t tell him how bad I was. I also insisted that Mike should not be told, as he would only return home immediately. James was very uncomfortable with this, but agreed to wait until he next heard from me.
Poor Bernadette Flynn, she really hadn’t expected this kind of drama on her watch. She was only staying for a couple of days and then it was my friend Brendan O’Brien’s turn to fly in and take over babysitting duties.
As Bernadette flew out, Brendan landed at the airport and I had arranged for him to be picked up and taken to the hospital. My friend Hilary Joyce-Owens, who knew Brendan from the Irish dancing scene, made a two-hour journey down from London to look after him as he wasn’t familiar with the area or my home.
It was just chaotic for everybody, but they were so good to me.
Mike had been due home at the end of the week, but now that I was in intensive care everyone agreed, especially James, that he had to be told. It wasn’t fair on anyone keeping it from him.
As predicted, once Mike heard I was in trouble he went straight to the airport on standby. As it was high season, it wasn’t easy to get a flight home, but he arrived back in Poole the evening that Brendan was leaving.
So it all worked out.
A couple of days after Mike returned from Cyprus I was discharged from hospital and quickly recovered from the incident.
* * *
I had the most wonderful, obliging, caring friends around me from the moment my cancer was diagnosed. Every day I counted my blessings. I had so much to be grateful for during that difficult time, not least being the love and devotion of my husband, Mike.
He was just an angel, the sweetest man.
I can’t imagine how I would have coped if I didn’t have the comfort of knowing that Mike was by my side supporting me every step of the way.
And it really was support above and beyond the call of duty when I went on the road with Lord of the Dance.
The Harbour Girls
The Michael Flatley Returns as Lord of the Dance tour played a significant role in my recovery.
There would be many hardships involved, but I never lost my passion for the show and I believe this was ultimately very beneficial to my health.
The chemotherapy started at the same time as the rehearsals in London for the new show in which Michael was making a comeback, but I insisted on going to work every day.
My friends from the Irish dancing world outside of Lord of the Dance once again came to my aid with unconditional support.
One of my closest pals, Mona Roddy Lennon, was a tremendous source of emotional and practical support to me as I negotiated my way through this traumatic period in my life.
Mona and I have known each other since we were teenagers meeting up at feiseanna in Irish towns like Monaghan, Dundalk and Drogheda, as well as at the All-Irelands.
As teachers in our adult years we were the friendliest of rivals. Our lives were also bonded through our roles as adjudicators, examiners and colleagues on CLRG.
We would go on to have great craic together throughout the Lord of the Dance years as Mona’s daughters, Ciara and Dearbhla, became lead dancers in the show. Mona and her husband, Brian, then travelled around the world to see them perform, describing themselves as ‘groupies’.
Mona really was the sister I never had. We attended each other’s family functions and we always knew that if ever the need arose, we would be there to support each other.
Well, that came to pass in my life and, like a true friend, Mona was by my side immediately after my cancer diagnosis and during my chemo treatment. I will never forget her kindness.
Hilary Joyce-Owens, who lived about twenty minutes from the studio, organised her own Irish dance school schedule so that she could assist me whenever I needed her.
James McCutcheon also made time in his busy life up in Glasgow to come down and lend me support.
The dance captains and leads in the show, Bernadette Flynn, Aisling and David McCabe and Tom Cunningham, made my task as smooth as possible. They knew I was coming in from chemo treatment, so every time I glanced around one of them was by my side with a glass of water.
It’s the small things that mean so much.
However, I never went to work with the attitude that I was a sick person. I went in totally committed to the challenge of training up a new dance troupe for a major world tour.
Shortly after the rehearsals began, I noticed that my hair was starting to fall out. I had decided that as soon as this happened I would immediately shave the lot off. So I went to my hairdresser, Carolyn, and asked her to do the job.
I know there are many women, and men, who find their hair loss a traumatic experience, but it didn’t bother me. As I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and saw the egghead staring back at me, I wasn’t the least bit emotional or self-conscious. I decided to get a few wigs, particularly for special occasions, but I had no problem going out in public with a bald head or just a scarf.
Through the years dancers would mimic my reaction when I got frustrated with them in rehearsals. Apparently I would put my fingers through my hair with both hands and shake my head wildly. One day I lost my cool with the troupe at rehearsals for the new show, snatched the wig off my head in a fit of rage, and flung it across the stage. Well, jaws dropped and you could hear a pin fall. The dancers were standing around nervously eyeballing each other and glancing at the wig on the floor in the middle of them – and at that moment who walked in only Michael Flatley.
One of the dance captains immediately caught Michael’s eye and indicated with a mad facial expression and a finger to the lips that now was not a good time to talk to Marie!
So Mr Flatley discreetly and briskly exited the scene.
* * *
My husband’s support allowed me to go on the road around Europe with Lord of the Dance when the new Michael Flatley tour started. I could not have done it without Mike’s total and selfless dedication to me.
The first challenge Mike had to fac
e was overcoming his phobia of blood and needles. In order for me to travel, Mike was going to have to administer my daily injection. And I couldn’t have him fainting doing it because that would be a disaster. So we got an orange and he practised on that for a while. Gradually Mike became comfortable with the procedure, and then it was time to give the real thing a shot.
And to be honest I don’t know why he was so worried, as it all went fine.
After the UK and Ireland, the tour was going to take us across Germany, playing ten cities there, as well as Vienna in Austria and Zurich in Switzerland.
As I was receiving chemotherapy throughout that period, flying was too difficult for me. I did travel by plane to one or two places, but I found it very claustrophobic. There was also the hassle of getting all the medication and syringes through security; plus I had a little disc in my chest for the chemo treatment and of course that caused problems going through scanners.
So flying was a nightmare.
Instead, Mike and I made the treks across Europe, and trips back and forth to the UK for my chemo, in our car.
It was like a military operation, and we had to make sure that we brought the correct stock of medication and syringes to cover the periods we were away.
We had a small Mercedes car and I would roll the passenger seat back, cover myself with a blanket and sleep on the journeys as Mike steered us along the highways on our mission to catch boats and trains. Because you weren’t allowed to stay in the car on board a boat, Mike always booked us a berth, even if we were only using it for a couple of hours.
One of the most gruelling trips was at the start of the tour. Mike and I drove from Newcastle to the port of Stranraer in south west Scotland for a ferry that would take us over to Larne in Northern Ireland, and then we’d go on to Belfast by car. We thought it was going to be an easy journey, but as we were getting close to Stranraer there was snow coming down and getting worse by the minute. By the time we arrived at the ferry it was a major snowstorm, and we got caught up in a nightmare involving a boarding queue of traffic that didn’t move for fourteen hours.
Lady of the Dance Page 19
