Finding longevity in unexpected places.
I volunteer at a thrift shop several times a month, and it never fails that I always find something worthy of a purchase. Such was the case this week, coming upon a book that I had long wanted to read. So for 50 cents I purchased Anatomy of an Illness by Norman Cousins.
This book chronicles the author’s account of his amazing recovery from a serious degenerative illness. It happened in the mid-70’s, and has long been given as an example of mind over matter in healing the body, specifically, the power of laughter to heal. But of course there’s always more to the story. The devil is in the details, so to speak. I was anxious to learn more about the story behind the story.
After returning from an international trip for his job (he was a journalist writing for the Saturday Review) Cousin’s was diagnosed with a disease of the connective tissue that caused excruciating joint pain and made it difficult to move just about every part of this body. The doctors said he had about a one in 500 chance of recovery.
It’s worthy to note that Cousins was already interested in the mind, body connection and had done a lot of reading and writing about health, medicine and healing. So, faced with his own debilitating illness, he wasn’t about to take the condition “lying down.”
For starters, he became completely exasperated with the treatment (or lack thereof, in his estimation) he was receiving in the hospital. “The hospital is no place to be sick,” he lamented. His complaints were sufficient and loud enough to result in some changes to his hospital routine. But it was also coupled with the strong partnership he had with his doctor who happened to be a personal friend. He listened with an attentive ear to the patient’s complaints and acquiesed to Cousins thoughts on dealing with his own illness.
For starters, Cousins wanted to explore “the affirmative emotions as a factor in enhancing body chemistry.” In short, he wanted to see if laughter could help him heal. He started with funny movies. It helped to have as a friend Allen Funt, the producer of the popular tv show Candid Camera, who sent films of some of the programs’ classics. They also got their hands on some old Marx Brothers films. As he remarked, “We pulled down the blinds and turned on the machine.” Remember this was the 1970’s so they were using a movie projector, not a dvd player. His joyous discovery was that 10 minutes of genuine laughter gave him at least two hours of pain-free sleep. When the pain-killing effect wore off, they’d switch on the projector again. As the story goes, he did actually check out of the hospital with his doctor’s blessing, mostly because his belly laughter was bothering some of the other patients.
It’s the second feature of Cousins’ healing regime that is often overlooked in the retelling of this story. Ever the investigative journalist, Cousins somehow surmised that the lack of ascorbic acid (Vitamin C) had something to do with what was happening with his body. With his doctor’s somewhat reluctant agreement, he received injections of it well beyond the normal recommendations. Cousins, and his doctor, were elated when the procedure, along with the “laughter,” began to help his body recover.
As he reflected on his entire experience, Cousins drew two noteworthy conclusions. The will to live is a powerful thing, not just theoretical but with real physiological impact. Secondly, he believed he was incredibly fortunate to have as his doctor a professional who knew his biggest job was to encourage the patient’s will to live and to mobilize all the natural resources of the body and mind to combat the disease.
Cousin’s did recover from this disease, returned to work at the Saturday Review and lived another 20 years, eventually dying of heart failure.
And now as I’ve been writing this, I have my own rather startling medical news. It appears I now have an opportunity to follow the advice of which I write. Within the last hour my husband received word from his doctor that he has tested positive for COVID. We are both quarantining.
But why did this happen? We thought we did EVERYTHING: vaccinated in February and March, looking forward to a booster; kept our distance from big crowds and limited our travel to our farm and remote cabin in central Minnesota; we thought we practiced extra good hygiene. To top it off, our daughter, 20 miles away and just starting her position as a school mental health counselor, also tested positive. I am equally concerned for her and her two daughters, ages 9 and 10. The vaccine for young people can’t come soon enough.
I’m in no way comparing this nasty virus to the circumstances that Mr. Cousin’s endured. This COVID virus is so sneaky. And don’t get me started on the choices some people are making not to get vaccinated. But I also recognize the importance of having rapport with my own body. The human mind can discipline the body, can set goals for itself, can somehow comprehend its own potentiality and move resolutely forward. I’m hoping that’s the case with our situation.
Still, I fully believe in and appreciate the medical professionals and the work they do. I put complete trust in my doctor and listen to his advice. Likewise, my physician listens to me, and together, we decide on the best medical game plan that fits my needs and will have the best physical and emotional outcome for me. So we will see how our COVID journey goes.
In this past year and a half as the world has grappled with this ugly virus, so many thoughts have run through my mind. So many lives impacted. So much turmoil. To think of the thousands of lives lost to this ugly virus and what it has done to so many families leaves me totally depleted emotionally. It also brings to mind a paragraph from Cousin’s book:
“Death is not the ultimate tragedy of life. The ultimate tragedy is depersonalization–dying in an alien and sterile area, separated from the spiritual nourishment that comes from being able to reach out to a loving hand, separated from a desire to experience the things that make life worth living, separated from hope.”
If you are reading this and you haven’t been vaccinated, please do so. We all must do what we can in our own lives and how we impact others. Let’s keep hope alive and the will to live as well.