An illness can help you turn your life around, a friend teaches Renica Rego
IN May of 2006, my best friend, Angel was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, a serious heart condition. She was 38. That was the first time I had even heard the word.
She was undergoing treatment for pneumonia at the time, when the radiologist had raised an alarm and sent her to a cardiologist. Within an hour, she was in hospital and our carefree, happy little world came crumbling down like a house of cards. The bony woman lying helplessly in that sterile hospital room with strange machines blinking around her wasn’t my Angel at all. Even in my dazed state, I remember wondering how it was at all possible that a well-built woman like Angel could shrink to half her size within a day of being in hospital. It was absurd, insane.
The next few days are blurred in my memory. But I do remember fuming at people who
even so much as vaguely doubted that Angel would survive. When one of them called a priest to her bedside, I almost lost it. But secretly, I was terrified inside, wondering whether she would survive and if she did, how she would cope with her illness.
But what happened with Angel not only surprised me, but changed my whole perspective towards life. After the initial depression and shock, Angel started recuperating beautifully. Within four months, she insisted on getting back to her job, working half days at first, and managing her boisterous eight-yearold with a little help.
She, in fact, began emerging as a stronger, happier and more determined woman. She laughed more, dressed better and looked more positive than ever before. Doctors had warned us that Angel's condition might only get worse, but her optimism and courage continues to defy the medical verdict. She once said rather matter-of-factly, “You know, in retrospect, my illness seems to be the best thing that ever happened to me”, and it had left me stumped.
A few months later, I went through a health scare myself; tiny as compared with Angel’s, but nevertheless enough to leave me a little shaken and nervous for months. As I learned to cope, Angel’s words kept coming back to me and I finally understood what she had meant.
I still worry about Angel’s health. But, I know that regardless of how long she has to live, she’s living her life well. Her ambition and enthusiasm are almost contagious and when she visited me during Christmas this year, we sat late into the night giggling over how we’d age into graceful grannies and take long walks together
while our husbands, like always, argued over cricket matches and corrupt politicians.
According to Angel, illness is not a negative crisis, but a lifechanging moment, a gift... another chance to rearrange your life. In her words, “…an opportunity to find more appreciation for aromatic barbecues and clinking glasses.”
Source : Welcome
IN May of 2006, my best friend, Angel was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy, a serious heart condition. She was 38. That was the first time I had even heard the word.
She was undergoing treatment for pneumonia at the time, when the radiologist had raised an alarm and sent her to a cardiologist. Within an hour, she was in hospital and our carefree, happy little world came crumbling down like a house of cards. The bony woman lying helplessly in that sterile hospital room with strange machines blinking around her wasn’t my Angel at all. Even in my dazed state, I remember wondering how it was at all possible that a well-built woman like Angel could shrink to half her size within a day of being in hospital. It was absurd, insane.
The next few days are blurred in my memory. But I do remember fuming at people who
even so much as vaguely doubted that Angel would survive. When one of them called a priest to her bedside, I almost lost it. But secretly, I was terrified inside, wondering whether she would survive and if she did, how she would cope with her illness.
But what happened with Angel not only surprised me, but changed my whole perspective towards life. After the initial depression and shock, Angel started recuperating beautifully. Within four months, she insisted on getting back to her job, working half days at first, and managing her boisterous eight-yearold with a little help.
She, in fact, began emerging as a stronger, happier and more determined woman. She laughed more, dressed better and looked more positive than ever before. Doctors had warned us that Angel's condition might only get worse, but her optimism and courage continues to defy the medical verdict. She once said rather matter-of-factly, “You know, in retrospect, my illness seems to be the best thing that ever happened to me”, and it had left me stumped.
A few months later, I went through a health scare myself; tiny as compared with Angel’s, but nevertheless enough to leave me a little shaken and nervous for months. As I learned to cope, Angel’s words kept coming back to me and I finally understood what she had meant.
I still worry about Angel’s health. But, I know that regardless of how long she has to live, she’s living her life well. Her ambition and enthusiasm are almost contagious and when she visited me during Christmas this year, we sat late into the night giggling over how we’d age into graceful grannies and take long walks together
while our husbands, like always, argued over cricket matches and corrupt politicians.
According to Angel, illness is not a negative crisis, but a lifechanging moment, a gift... another chance to rearrange your life. In her words, “…an opportunity to find more appreciation for aromatic barbecues and clinking glasses.”
Source : Welcome
