Laugh? I nearly died
Willy de Wit and David Downs had close encounters with death. They tell Chris Schulz why they’re ready to laugh about it.
Two years ago, David Downs was feeling unwell. He’d lost a lot of weight, and was waking up with night sweats. “I thought I had a mild flu,” he says. He delayed seeing a doctor for several weeks. Then his wife forced him to go. It was Friday morning. A doctor heard his symptoms, and told him: “I don’t like what I’m seeing here.”
Downs, a former comic who’d moved into the business world, was sent for a scan, and received the first of several pieces of bad news.
“There was a tumour the size of a basketball around my heart, lungs and ribs,” Downs says. “I was really, really sick.”
Diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin lymphoma, a type of blood cancer, Downs had surgery, then began 12 sessions of chemotherapy.
It didn’t work. His cancer had spread. He was told to get his affairs in order.
“It was pretty hard,” says Downs. “Doctors in New Zealand said, ‘We’re out of options. You’re basically terminal. Make your peace with the world [and] go into hospice.”’
Meanwhile, Downs’ friend, radio and television personality Willy de Wit, wasn’t faring much better.
In 2016, he suffered a major stroke in his North Shore apartment. It was 12 hours before a friend found him. In hospital, he was resuscitated twice. De Wit spent a year in hospital and rehab recovering, relearning how to walk and talk. Last November, he turned 55. There was a birthday party. Downs was invited.
At the end of the party, Downs and de Wit sat together on the doorstep. Downs was showing the full repercussions of cancer. He’d lost some weight and all of his hair. De Wit had lost “30-40 kilos”, and much of the use of his left arm and left leg. He could “hardly talk”.
De Wit told Downs: “You’re not going to die.
‘‘ a show and tell everyone
We both said to each other, ‘If we make it through this, we should do about it,’
David Downs
We can do this.” So the pair made a promise. “We both said to each other, ‘If we make it through this, we should do a show and tell everyone about it,”’ Downs says.
Against all odds, that show is happening. Downs, 48, and de Wit, 56, will host For A Limited Time at Devonport’s The Victoria Theatre next weekend, a one-off gig to talk about — and laugh at — their brushes with death.
Neither has been on stage in more than 20 years and they’re a little nervous. But they shouldn’t be: on this sunny Tuesday morning in Devonport, they’re hilarious company.
At one point, when Downs says, “It was pretty bleak at one point,” de Wit replies: “Is that why you were playing The Last Post all the time?”
It’s not wonder they’re in good spirits: de Wit’s speech has returned, so has his quick-fire sense of humour. Although his left arm still isn’t functioning properly — he sometimes picks it up with his right hand and lets it thump on the table to emphasise his jokes — he’s able to move around slowly but independently.
Downs, meanwhile, is cancer free. After being told he’d need to move into palliative care, he negotiated for his inclusion in a CAR T-cell therapy trial at Boston’s Harvard University, a cancer treatment that helps train the body’s immune system to recognise and fight cancer cells.
It worked. He’s been cancer-free since March. He’s become an advocate for the treatment, and is raising money for the Malaghan Institute in Wellington, which wants to begin offering CAR T-cell therapy treatment in New Zealand next year.
Downs is also in high spirits. Despite being “through hell”, he’s quick to laugh at his experiences. At one point, he’d organised his own funeral, complete with line-dancing and air guitar. He’d gift-wrapped his neighbour’s screwdriver set and returned it after five years. “A lot of people have lofty travel plans,” he says. “I just wanted to give back some screwdrivers.”
Faced with their own mortality, Downs and de Wit say they feel like they’ve been given a second chance. There are things they want to achieve — and one of those is getting back on stage, returning to their comedy roots. “The only downside of cancer is we have to follow through and do this show,” quips Downs. Proceeds will go towards the Malaghan Institute and, if it goes well, the pair plan to repeat it at next year’s comedy festival. They’ve already pitched it to organisers.
“I didn’t want to die at 55,” says de Wit. “This is a second chance ... to go out with some form of satisfaction and respect. If I’d gone at that time, there were things that were unfinished, unachieved.
“It’s a blessing, really. We are very lucky to be here.”