In July, 2008, I, Princess Rachella, Intrepid African American Girl International Journalism Consultant, pulled up stakes once again and headed to Nairobi, Kenya. Through my various adventures, I've concluded that if I get any MORE explosively fabulous in these prequel years to "THE BIG 5-0," I will have to register myself with the Pentagon as a thermonuclear incendiary device.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?

It's funny how a chain of events can unfold sometimes. Just last night, I briefly watched part of a John Ritter movie on cable, the one where he moved his family into this Stepford-like cul de sac run by Hal Linden, and slowly has his life controlled and nearly destroyed by the evil suburb-bots.

Then this morning I read a brief review of John Ritter's widow's new book tribute. Amy Yasbeck wrote in part about how his fatal heart condition had been misdiagnosed. He'd apparently suffered an aortic dissection shortly before dying at age 54. Yasbeck tried unsuccessfully to sue his doctors for the misdiagnosis, but she was also determined to use the tragic event to get the word out about this condition.

I Googled "aortic dissection," and remembered all the times I've joked about something stressing me out so much, it was giving me an aneurysm or a stroke. Made a mental note to never joke like that again. After all, I'm not a 20 year old with a 10 percent body fat and 90 over 60 blood pressure anymore. I'm in the age range where it's distinctly possible that my high blood pressure could cause the walls of my aorta to thin out and tear, and lead to a stroke. One needn't tempt the fates these days.

And then about an hour later, I saw a posting on a former NPR colleague's Facebook page. It was about the man in the picture up top. I had worked at NPR for about 4 or 5 years before I connected the name David Rector to this man's face. He was just one of many engineers there, most of whom I never really got to know. But I do remember thinking David had a kind face, and that he looked like a really mellow brother.

Ironically, reading the Facebook link almost stopped my heart. It was entitled, "They Are Killing David Rector." I won't even try to relate the whole story, but I will include the link here.

http://www.cogitamusblog.com/2010/09/they-are-killing-david-rector.html

Eighteen months ago, David Rector suffered an aortic dissection and a stroke. He was living in San Diego with the beautiful woman pictured with him above. His fiancee, Roz, has been devotedly caring for him ever since it happened...against horrifying odds. Long story short, because she's not legally related to him, his care is being decided by a cousin who lives on the East Coast. And apparently, there's not too much thought being given to those decisions.

This story is literally haunting me, people. I sometimes hate how I always manage to filter these kinds of situations through my personal life lens, but sometimes you just can't help it. I mean, what would happen to me in that kind of medical emergency? If I were completely incapacitated by a stroke while I'm here in Nairobi....God, I don't even want to think about where I'd wind up.

But what's even more depressing, the picture wouldn't be much rosier if I was back in the States. Don't get me wrong, I'm blessed with many wonderful friends and family, but who the heck would want to devote their lives to wiping my ass, for Christ's sake??? Blood relatives who legally could call the shots would probably look at my crippled bag of bones and mutter, "That silly bitch should have penciled a husband onto her schedule at some point, dammit! Hell, she could have at least gotten knocked up 25 years ago and had a kid who'd be obliged to deal with this crap!"

Okay, I'm being wildly sarcastic here to mask a really deep-rooted fear that I probably spend an inordinate amount of time trying to pretend doesn't exist. David Rector's story follows another one I saw back in March, about a CNN producer/camerawoman named Margaret Moth. Again, long story short, Moth lived this amazing, adventure-filled life, but was living alone in an Istanbul apartment filled with cats shortly before she was diagnosed with cancer and transferred to the Minnesota hospice where she died. Oh, sure, she was deeply respected and had many dear friends, but apparently, had no life partner to hold her hand at the end.

I guess that's why, even though David Rector's story is tragic and will probably keep me awake most of tonight, I can at least visualize this beautiful, radiant woman who is fighting against terrible odds to stay by his side. Roz is being disrespected and disregarded, but she loves him and she won't give up.

Which makes him one of the luckiest people I've ever known. Like I said, it's funny how a chain of events can unfold sometimes.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

The best thing you can do for yourself is realize all this will take time. Once you figure out what went wrong you will be able to examine how to fix it.
To help you figure it all out what to do. Click the link for help on how to mend your broken heart.

http://ezinearticles.com/?Getting-Back-Together---Mend-Your-Broken-Hearts&id=5417790

Unknown said...

Whether you've recently broken up with your partner, or you have a literal heart disease, it's not that easy mending that broken heart of yours. All we can do is pray, have faith, and get some meditation to help you feel better. My grandmother has a heart disease and for her to ease the pain and feel better, she regularly goes to Theta healing sessions nearby, and this Theta healing therapy improves her heart, and her immune system as well.

Christine White said...

Hi. I'm writing from Brazil. Back in 1993, I had the chance to meet David Rector. He was the most nice journalist fellow I had at NPR's All Things Considered. Two years ago, trying to reach him again to say hello, was I did for many times since 1994, when I left Washington D.C., I chockly learned about his condition on the internet. God, I could not believe the ever so generous gentleman I met at NPR had faced such difficult time as described on the story. DEspite my bad English, I would very much like to know if I can still reach him somewhere, as I refuse to thing he is not among us anymore. Again, forgive my poor English and explain to me what is happing to him as easy as you can. I thank you so much for that. My name is Christine White, chris.white8@gmail.com. Thank you a lot.