I was dying, but had to deal with life says Dr Feelgood's Wilko

In early 2103, cancer specialists at Southend General told the one-time Dr Feelgood guitarist the watermelon-sized tumour in his pancreas was fast crushing all surrounding organs.

He had less than a year to live.

Wilko took the news graciously and the year gratefully and proceeded to have the year of his life, or rather the year of his death.

He announced a farewell tour, performed across the globe and was invited to make an album with one of his all-time rock heroes, The Who’s Roger Daltrey.

“What I also did was enjoy the support and affection I was getting. It made me feel wonderful. During the year of dying I’d get messages from people like Eric Clapton.

"I was more famous during that time than in my whole career.” Was it like being able to attend your own funeral? “Exactly!” he declares.

But then an unbelievable event came about. Wilko’s incurable illness wasn’t incurable at all.

The tumour was removed. His death sentence had been commuted to life on earth, just like the rest of us.

Yet, with his whole life now in front of him, the man from Canvey Island in Essex admits he now couldn’t cope. He rewinds on his journey from accepting death to struggling with added life.

“When I was first diagnosed I was told I had less than a year to live and for whatever reason I was absolutely calm,” he explains.

“I decided to accept the blackness, and make the most of this few months. And it lead to the most extraordinary year in my life. I did gigs, made the album with Roger that I never thought I’d see released.”

The musician in fact, he joked about his cancer, to the point friends would be upset.

“I wasn’t walking around with a stupid smile on my face the whole time, but what are you going to do? Fall down on the floor and yell ‘Mummy!’ Or run away? Where would you run to?”

He ran off to Tokyo, but not to feel despair. He had had many great times in Japan, on tour, many great friends. “During the year of my death I went back to Japan six times,” he recalls. “It was wonderful. Then for the rest of the time I played gigs.

“At this point, the past was gone. I had no future. It was all about being in the moment. Now, I wasn’t worried about getting on Top of the Pops or anything like that. Ambition and making plans was a ridiculous notion. I was so happy.”

Nothing could crush his spirit but meantime, the tumour was crushing his insides.

“It had now grown to the point it weighed three and a quarter kilos. It looked as though I was pregnant. And it was set to burst at any time. Then at the very last minute, the doctors at Addenbrooke's Hospital (In Cambridge) told me the cancer was in fact operable. And they cured me.” It turned out his pancreatic cancer was a neuroendocrine tumour – a rare and less aggressive malignancy.

In April 2014 he had his pancreas, spleen, part of his stomach and part of his small and large intestine removed in a nine-hour operation at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge.

But then he had to come to terms with not being about to die.

“I realised I was alive and this was harder to get my mind round than the belief I was about to die. I had to think ‘What will I do now?”

With his life in front of him, the rock star's mind re-booted back to the way it was. And it had been depressed. The musician had suffered from depression from most of his adult life, greatly worsened by the death of his wife Irene in 2004 after forty years of marriage, (he has two sons) and now well, it returned.

“Over the months of recuperation the depression began to return.” He adds, with a laugh; “I knew I was getting better because I was becoming miserable again.”

Does he take treatment for his condition?

“Well, there are some sorts of treatments you can take,” he says in impish voice, suggesting his self-medication may not always be of the legal variety.

But then Wilko Johnson hasn’t been bound by convention. He studied English Lit at Newcastle University, specialising in Anglo Saxon sagas.

After graduating, he travelled overland to India and taught English for a while, before returning to Essex to play with the pub band which would evolve into, the pre-punk, semi-anarchic Dr Feelgood.

The band became an early seventies success, and had a Top Ten hit, Back In The Night.

In the seventies, he says he hung around with Lemmy of Motorhead. Did they spend hours over a library book researching Anglo Saxon mythology? “Nah, we’d go down Notting Hill and research where to get amphetamines,” he says, gurgling with laughter.

Johnson however left Dr Feelgood in 1977, following ‘artistic disagreements’. He maintains he was kicked out of the band, while the remaining band members claimed he had left voluntarily. In 1980, Johnson joined Ian Dury’s Blockheads, later forming his own band.

In recent times, Johnson, who is not cursed with conventional good looks, appeared in international television phenomenon Game of Thrones, as mute, psychopathic executioner Ser Ilyn Payne

“I’d like to do more,” he says. “Luckily, my character didn’t die so there’s always a chance I’ll get to come back.”

But his main job is musician and he’s still touring. Next month he arrives in Scotland to play at the Belladrum Tartan Heart Festival. The depression is being held back, and he’s excited about coming to Scotland.

“I’m feeling fit as a fiddle at the moment, even though I shouldn’t be feeling anything at all,” he says, laughing.

When Wilko Johnson was ‘dying’ he would appear on stage and perform Chuck Berry’s Bye Bye Johnny, and tearful fans would literally wave their goodbyes, assuming they were seeing the last of their guitar hero.

Now, fans can enjoy his performance knowing his time up isn’t due anytime soon.

“And I've just been given a Doctorate by East Anglia University,” he says, the pride in his voice audible. “I’m Dr Johnson now.”

Or Dr Feelgood? “Exactly!” he says, laughing uproariously. “Except I’m thoroughly miserable.”

• The Belladrum Tartan Heart Festival, Phoineas, By Beauly, Inverness-shire, August 4-6.

• Visit www.tartanfestival.co.uk for full details.