Photography: Garth Badger, Thievery
Dai Henwood is the picture of health. His skin is glowing and the whites of his eyes are bright. He’s joyfully devouring a steak when Woman’s Day catches up with him at an Auckland eatery to talk about his soon-to-be-released book and there’s absolutely no physical sign he has incurable cancer.
“Since writing the book, I’ve done another six rounds of chemo,” the 46-year-old comedy icon says. “I’m on a break now. It’s not being knocked back as much as I’d like, so I’ll probably do some radiation in June, then probably more chemo in August.”
Doctors diagnosed Dai with bowel cancer during the first lockdown of 2020. He kept it a secret from the nation while he went through treatment, planning to share his story only once he’d kicked the disease to the curb.
However, the cancer threw him a curveball when it refused to give up so easily, forcing him to undergo more surgery and chemo.
Dai recalls, “I was doing a gig right after I found out the cancer was incurable, making a few gags about binge-drinking. It was so weird. I was thinking, ‘I’m living a lie.’”
Now, four years later, the 7 Days and Lego Masters NZ star finally feels ready to tell his story in full, in the form of a book, a documentary and a stand-up tour. His autobiography, The Life Of Dai, is out on Wednesday. It’s a moving, profound and inspiring journey through his life so far, including his secrets to staying positive in the face of harrowing news. It’s a must-read for anyone, not just those with a serious illness.
Asked if he’s sick of talking about cancer, he says, “I don’t mind it and I know it actually has a greater good around it. I’m really happy. It’s a good book and an easy read.”
The comedian is in the middle of recording the audio version of The Life Of Dai, as well as watching the final edit of his doco Live And Let Dai, which he describes as “the funniest cancer documentary you’ll see”.
He says, “It’s awesome because they’re separate projects, but they both have the themes of dealing with adversity, positivity and love.”
Having finished his steak and now sipping a herbal tea, Dai continues, “It’s been confronting. In the doco, I do a full funeral for myself with a Buddhist monk. Rewatching that, there were a lot of tears.” He sighs, then pulls himself together. “It’s super-cool because people who read the book can then get a whole other perspective on what I’ve been going through.
“The amount of patients who have contacted me to say they’re looking forward to the book has honoured me. Little videos I’ve done have helped them. It’s made me feel very glad I’ve done the confronting process of writing the book and doing the documentary.
“What crystallised it for me was Radio Hauraki doing a ‘Day In Loo’ event to support bowel cancer. A person got in touch with me to say, ‘I heard you talking about your story and I went and got checked. I had seven precancerous polyps removed. I wouldn’t have got checked otherwise.’
“This was a rural Kiwi dude and that’s the difference between him having nothing or six months later having cancer! It sounds so twee to say I saved his life, but if you just help one person…”
You might think there’s no way someone can maintain such positivity and selflessness when facing a devastating diagnosis. Surely it’s a giant ruse? But it’s not. Dai truly is this passionate about helping others. Today, the father-of-two is even wearing a hat that says “Do Good” across the front.
But Dai admits he still struggles daily.
“It’s not easy,” he confesses. “Along with the chemo, I take a drug called Avastin, which sort of mucks up the blood supply to tumours. I stopped taking that six weeks ago and I still have blood all through my nose. Each night, I’ll wake up and there’ll be blood all down my face. My tolerance now for what is normal is so weird.”
Amid the hilarious tales from his life in comedy, Dai’s book includes lots of advice for people with cancer and their loved ones. A particularly moving chapter provides tips for telling family and friends about your diagnosis. In it, he drew on how he broke the news to his own whānau.
At first, Dai told them, “Dad’s had a bit of bad medical news. He’s got to get scanned and have a few operations.”
When he was able to formulate his words a little better, he explained, “I’ve got cancer. My body has mutated a bit and things are growing where they shouldn’t be growing. I need to shrink those things with chemotherapy or get them removed with surgery. I’m going to be doing chemo every second week. It’s going to suck, but we’ll still be able to go on walks, catch Pokémon and that sort of thing.”
Dai braced himself for an onslaught of tricky queries. But, for his son Charlie, 11, and daughter Lucy, eight, the most urgent question was, “Can we have McDonald’s?”
His face lights up at the mention of his family. Dai says his kids are coping admirably with the news, despite their youth.
“They’re great,” he says. “However, the book and doco are a bit too heavy for them. Not that there’s any information I’ve hidden from them, but it’s a lot to process.”
Now that 7 Days is on at the more family-friendly time of 7.30pm, the regular panellist watched an episode with his son for the first time recently.
Dai grins, “He goes, ‘Dad, you’re actually really funny,’ which was the biggest compliment ever.”
Dai explained that some impressions he did of an All Black didn’t make the final cut of the show because they weren’t funny enough. Charlie lovingly replied, “I bet they were!” His eyes welling up, Dai says softly, “He’s got my back.”
The star is fiercely protective of his kids and his wife Jo, spending as much time with them as he possibly can. But while he was undergoing chemo, Dai would travel out to the family’s property in Piha, West Auckland, to hibernate solo until he felt better.
“I’d go out there on the beach, get my John Kirwan on and get emotional,” he explains, smiling. “Piha has so much energy – the sea, the iron in the black sand, the hills around it… It’s great to blow the cobwebs out and blow the emotion out.
“I write ‘I will live’ in the sand every time I’m out there. It has two meanings – I plan to live for a long time, but also I will live now. I don’t live for tomorrow. Cancer might not be what takes me, but it’s crystallised so much. We have limited time, but the clock’s on everyone. It makes me go out there and really enjoy every moment of every gig.”
This leads us to the “mini-tour” of his stand-up show Dai Hard in Auckland and Christchurch. He will perform accompanied by his best mate and fellow comedian Justine Smith.
He assures us, “Cancer’s mentioned, but it’s just about the laughs. The book, the doco and the live shows, they’re all so different, but they all carry my ethos of love, happiness and laughter.”
And with that, our chat comes to an end, but Dai has one last message. As he heads out the door, he turns around and, with a cheeky grin and sparkling eyes, he says, “Cancer’s taught me so much, but it can go now.”
Then off he goes, probably to save more lives while making even more people laugh.
The Life Of Dai ($40, HarperCollins NZ) hits shelves on Wednesday. To buy a copy or for tickets to Dai Hard, visit laughwithdai.com.
