Note from Jessika Daly (Eddie's wife) On the afternoon of Monday, June 15, after five long days of holding our breath, the phone finally rang, from a number we have all too soon memorized. “Eddie,” he said “you have stage 3 oropharynx cancer and you should come in for surgery as soon as possible.” I was driving the car, heading to Portland, OR with the whole family and even though we knew the call was coming, I had to pull over. I couldn’t breath, he was scrambling for paper and a pen and I just felt my arms get weak. I saw his face become tense and scared. This was the news we waited impatiently for, it was the call that would change everything.



Like E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.



It is so hard to write this not only because of what is happening, but to whom it is happening to. I’m talking about my husband of nearly 16 years, who is a son, brother, nephew, uncle, friend and amazing father to our three kids Quattro, Elvis and Zeke (ages 14, 5, 3). I am talking about a man who chose his career path the minute he first heard The Knack play “My Sharona”. The guy who started a band, the Supersuckers, with his best friends and has played stages, big and small, around the world for the last 30 years. A man who has been doing just that thing that made him so happy as a kid. A man who is more important, influential, and crucial than he will ever know, to so many of us.



To say I’m crushed is the understatement of the century. To say we have had a tough year is the only truth I know.



Eddie Spaghetti of the Supersuckers, is now facing surgery to remove the cancer that was found in a neck mass during a biopsy in NYC. After a persistent, what we believed to be allergy related, swollen lymph node in his neck turned up squamous cell carcinoma while our family was traveling across the country on a year long journey, we were forced to seek an immediate Pet-scan in LA (where the band was meeting to start a tour). Knowing you have cancer cells in a neck mass is one thing, hearing that they need to scan your whole body to find out where it originated was too much for this guy.



Learning about the process shut him down for awhile. Unable to hold many conversations with me in those days we had to wait for the scan and then the 5 to wait for results. I was scared for him but I just kept asking “how are you doing?” everyday. Every 30 minutes probably. I was annoying. Seeing someone actually afraid of dying (or worse, his words, “not being able to sing…”), well, if it weren’t for our three kids, I’m just not sure how either of us would have survived. Keeping the news quiet and strictly with the closest of family (band included) was just an added bonus to the intense pressure that was building.



It is true what they say, that it takes a village. We would be in a dark, dark place without “our village” but thankfully, we are not. My best friend has cancer and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. There’s no amount of money that would rid him of this horrible disease so many suffer from. There is no one I can call to make things better but the support that we already have felt from everyone knocks us off our feet.



After Eddie recovers from surgery (scheduled for Monday June 29 in Los Angeles) with his family by his side at our friends guest house, he will undergo radiation- everyday for at least 6 weeks. They are hopeful there will be no chemo but until the results come back, we will not know. In that time of his surgery recovery, I will be looking for an apartment and employment (writing, social media, personal assistant) in the LA area.



On June 18, Eddie plays his last show with his band for awhile, making it bittersweet as he will be one step closer to getting this shit over with but he will have to put on hold the very thing he has always done; put his guitar strap across his shoulder, walk up to the mic and play his heart out. There will be no income after the last show before Eddie's surgery while The Supersuckers have had to cancel their summer European tour and plans to release the next Supersuckers album are in jeopardy.



- Jessika