Derryn Hinch - Coping: Life, Illness, Grief, Heartbreak, Unemployment

DEDICATION

To my paternal grandmother, Sarah Elizabeth (Nanna) Hinch, born in 1888, who once sagely told me: Its not what happens to you in life that matters. Its how you handle it. How you cope. That advice, all those years ago, was the inspiration for this book.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Fiction

Death at Newport

Death in Paradise

Non-Fiction

The Scrabble Book

AIDSMost of the Questions, Some of the Answers

The Derryn Hinch Diet Book

Thats LifeThe Private Life of a Public Person

101 Ways to Lose Your Mobile Phone

The Ultimate Guide to Winning Scrabble

The Fall and Rise of Derryn Hinch

You Are So BeautifulThe Passion and the Pain of Relationships

I Beat the Booze and You Can Too

Human HeadlinesMy 50 Years in the Media

A Human Deadline: A Story of Life, Death, Hope and House Arrest

Hinch Vs Canberra: Behind the Human Headlines

Unfinished BusinessLife of a Senator

CONTENTS

Ive written novels and several memoirs, but I never thought I would write a book like this, on coping those machinations that go on inside our heads. Throughout the project Ive had some great advice and guidance.

Thanks to my darling, stalwart friend; my stoic, animal-protecting, vegan, Lynda Stoner. My diligent brother, Des, a former high school principal and zealous historian. My god-daughter, turned dietician and physical fitness gem, Ellie Sullivan. Her mother, my friend and colleague, Annette Philpott. My former radio producer, book cover photographer and fellow pedant, Nicky Elliott. A design and publishing font of knowledge, Graham Rendoth. And that wise publishing guru, Louise Adler.

I once wrote a book called The Fall and Rise of Derryn Hinch how I hit the wall and didnt bleed. That was before I was diagnosed with (supposedly) terminal primary liver cancer and told I had 12 months to live. Maximum.

At that time, I remembered those words of wisdom from my paternal grandmother, Nanna Hinch, that I mentioned in my dedication. How you cope. And that advice was the thought germ for this book. I was going to call it On Attitude because your attitude, when coping with lifes crises, is very important. It is crucial.

When I was living in New York in the 1960s and 70s, I knew a brave undercover cop who went by the name of Tony Solo. Early in my sojourn, in what was then a high crime, pretty scary (even if glamorous) place, I asked Tony for some survival tips. His advice was simple. Three words. Walk with attitude. Walk as if you know where you are going and know what you are doing. Dont appear vulnerable. That advice can be extrapolated to your life in general even now. Live with attitude. When I was diagnosed with primary cancer of the liver, I never thought of myself as a victim. Did not once think, or say Why me? My attitude was Why not me?

(In the midst of the American presidential election in 2020, I was told that former Vice-President Joe Biden kept a framed Hagar the Horrible comic strip on his desk for inspiration. It showed Hagar shouting to the heavens: Why me? And the answer thundering down from the clouds: Why not?)

On the day I was given my gloomy cancer prognosis, I had a planned trip to Sydney next day with my then-wife Chanel. I told her the bad news and her immediate response was: Well, Sydneys off then. Instinctively, I said: Why? Im still the person I was yesterday. Ill still be the same person tomorrow in Sydney or here in Melbourne. If I take the attitude that I have cancer and will probably die soon then I may as well put myself in a box in the loungeroom and just wait for it to happen.

On returning from our Sydney holiday, I went on my daily radio program on Melbournes 3AW and announced my dire health news to my radio audience. I wasnt maudlin. I was practical, factual, and said that, treatment permitting, I would just keep on keeping on. Doing my job. Living my life. And thats exactly what happened. Thats how I coped. One day in the 3AW newsroom, a couple of journos were chewing the fat. One said: Im feeling a bit down today. I think its that time of year. The other one chipped in: Me too. I think its the weather. I couldnt resist it. I said: Me too. I think its because Ive got cancer. And then I laughed, to break an awkward silence.

The night I got the news of my bleak condition, the journo in me kicked in and launched an online blog called My Liver, My Life. I started it by tapping out Ive got cancer and Im going to tell you about it. And I did, every single day. Without fail. The ups and the downs. I wrote about my chances of survival, the chemotherapy, the nuclear treatment, my tenuous path to a possible life-saving transplant. I hoped it would be informative for everybody and a positive thread for other cancer patients and their families. Looking back, it was also cathartic for me.

I compared some of my internal treatment to Star Wars with our planes going in there and zapping the enemy. Id also had, for years, a strong belief (even if some people believe that is medically unjustified) that mental positivity can stall, if not beat, cancer. That we all have potentially cancerous cells dormant in our bodies that can turn destructive when triggered by stress. And stress had never been a big part of my life. I actually have, for decades, had a journalistic quirk where I have sat outside Derryn Hinch in the third person and watched things happen to him. Id seen him go to jail, seen him covering dangerous race riots in the US in the 1960s. Seen him looking down the barrel of a jittery teenage soldiers machine gun in Africa. Seen him get sacked umpteen times. This time I would see him handle cancer and later a liver transplant.

My life-saving transplant on July 6, 2011 (thanks to donor Heath Gardners family) was quickly followed by a court appearance for contempt of court for naming two of Victorias worst serial child sex offenders on the steps of Victorias Parliament House. That very morning, before court, I had to go to the Austin Hospital for treatment and then my diligent surgeon, Professor Bob Jones, came and sat with me in the courtroom. I was sentenced to five months under house arrest wearing an ankle bracelet and only allowed out for a one-hour, doctor-ordered, exercise period each afternoon within the apartment building confines. That was another time I had to cope. I did. Whatever is thrown at you, deal with it. It is called coping with life. Dont stress about things that may happen, or could happen. Deal with issues when they do happen.

Obviously, a book like this gets very personal, as you view the world through your own eyes in sometimes tempestuous times. At the end of each chapter, Ill post a comment: Hinchs Call. My personal judgement on the good, the bad and, sometimes, the ugly, of that issue. So, here goes.

Im not sure how much I am going to contribute to the coping debates with this opening chapter on stress and how to handle it. That is not to belittle or disparage the issue. Stress is a deadly six-letter word that affects people of all ages. From youngsters coping with growing up, the stresses of puberty, the fears of failure, bullying and peer rejection at school and then, right through adulthood for some people. It can manifest itself mentally and even physically.

I belittle my personal contribution because of an incident back in 2011 when I had just had that successful liver transplant and was serving that five-month prison sentence (converted to five months under house arrest) for contempt of court. Apart from the one hour of outdoor exercise it was 23 hours of solitude. Reading, watching TV and, typically, I did a lot of writing.