One armed saxophone player
Neill Duncan is a saxophonist who lost
his arm last year due to cancer. He is getting two one armed saxophones
made for him and will continue to play. Please
Log in to update your video settings
Neill Duncan
A snowy blanket covered Katoomba on the afternoon I found out
I had sarcoma, a rare type of cancer, in my left arm. The roads were
scattered with abandoned cars. It was apocalyptic, a scene analogous
to the past year of my life.
I'm a musician. I support my family with one tool: my
saxophone. So discovering I had cancer in my arm - and then having it
chopped off - was a very dark time.
Beating the odds: Saxophonist Neill Duncan
Photo: Wolter Peeters
It all happened very quickly. After two rounds of
chemotherapy at Royal Prince Alfred Hospital I had my amputation the
week before Christmas 2012. Strangely enough, I was quite calm about it.
Advertisement
In a funny way it has been a blessing. My wife, Rachel, and
our four kids, Ruben, Polly, Pearl and Floyd, have received amazing
support from the Blue Mountains community - from having meals dropped on
our doorstep to neighbours leaving cash in our mailbox.
Being a jazz saxophone player, losing my arm was very
dramatic and affected people deeply, especially Michael Lira, who I play
with in the band Darth Vegas. So he tracked down a guy in Amsterdam
who adapts wind instruments for people with disabilities.
It has taken a year for instrument maker Maarten Visser to
custom build the world's only one-hand tenor sax. He hydraulically moved
all the top keys to the bottom so I just use my right hand.
Against all odds, it seems I will play again. I have the same
excitement about relearning the instrument as I did when I first picked
up a sax 35 years ago.
With a $26,000 price tag it was way out of our budget. Then I
started getting phone calls. One was from Support Act, a benevolent
society for musicians who come into hard times. They put money towards
our mortgage and the new saxophone.
Musicians don't have a safety net. We don't have sick pay or
annual leave. I feel incredibly blessed and supported by initiatives,
the community and family. It's been a hard road, learning to live with
one arm … but having something that might kill me has made me so
grateful to be here.
Lucy Carroll