By Donna Sachet–
Imagine the busy routine of your everyday life coming to a grinding and surprising halt. Such was the case for us on Sunday, November 17, 2024, when subtle symptoms suggested that we needed immediate medical attention. Indeed, after telephone consultation with a medical professional, we reluctantly dialed 911 and met the EMTs in the lobby of our building to be whisked away by ambulance to Davies Medical Center.
After examination and extensive tests, doctors diagnosed a stroke. They detected no cognitive damage or memory loss, but faced with profound loss of coordination on our right side, resulting in difficulty walking, writing, and speaking, we spent the next 10 days in rehab and the next several weeks recuperating here and in Napa. As it turns out, Davies Medical Center has a fantastic reputation as one of the preeminent rehab facilities in the nation, and from all we experienced, it is a justifiable reputation. Their care was attentive, responsive, individual, professional, and complete. We owe then a debt of gratitude for their dedicated care and their patience with this decidedly impatient patient.
We’ve decided to share so many of the details of this incident in this column because of the many inquiries that our sudden cancellation of December engagements caused. Our intent is not to draw undue attention to our personal dilemma, knowing that there are so many who are suffering major tragedies, many without public attention or personal support. This unexpected situation has, however, revealed to us three lessons that we would like to share with our readers.
First, friends, family, loved ones, and even acquaintances want to help; let them. Perhaps because of our very public life, many people claim a friendship to us and as word leaked out about our situation, they lined up to offer assistance. A sense of proud independence made this hard to accept, at first. But it was important to recognize our limitations and need for assistance, and gradually there was acceptance of offers of rides, errands, grocery pick-ups, and little personal favors. Each of those people became part of our recovery, sharing in our return to some semblance of normality.
Far from an inconvenience, these small acts of kindness reiterated our friendship. Text messages, phone calls, cards, and bouquets of flowers were a daily reminder of a caring circle of friends. And we are convinced that the speed and progress of our recovery was amplified by the love and support we felt every day.
Second, recovery is an active process. Certainly rest, including frequent naps, play an important part in overcoming most physical health crises, but returning to full health requires a blend of impatience and discipline. Occupational therapy requires repetition of seemingly routine tasks, but with new attention to the details of the process, no matter how mundane or irritating.
Speech therapy requires the endless recitation of tongue-twisters and careful reading aloud of dense passages of nonfiction with particular attention to speed, accuracy, and cadence. And physical therapy requires a patience with one’s newfound inabilities or hampered skills, combined with a daily discipline of determination to regain what was lost. Small gains resulted in new confidence, but without effort, no progress would have been possible.
Third, and finally, life is fraught with a cruel element of chance that must be acknowledged. Why does one person within the predictable parameters of stroke risk suffer total speech loss or permanent physical impairment? Why do multiple passengers in a car accident emerge unscathed while others lose the precious gift of life? Why do hundreds of family members pray for the remission of cancer or some other medical condition but only a handful of those affected realize a full recovery?
You may have answers to these troubling questions, but we have come to recognize them as beyond understanding and simply the product of the randomness of life. Good people, whatever that means to you, suffer and some recover. Bad people, if you can identify such a category, sometimes avoid sudden emergencies and some seem to live a charmed life. Most importantly, it is not what befalls us in life, because so much of that is beyond our control; it is how we respond to it that defines our existence.
Although we did cancel 20-something engagements during the month of December, we made one exception: Songs of the Season. We created this annual holiday cabaret over 30 years ago, benefiting first the AIDS Emergency Fund and later PRC. Most recently, our good friend Brian Kent has produced the event, adding new talent and quality to the project. After checking with our doctors, we decided that, in the midst of our recovery period, we could show up each of the two nights at Feinstein’s at Hotel Nikko for a surprise cameo at the finale.
It was an incredible sensation. We felt love and support filling the room each night as we strolled through the audience and joined the cast for the finale of “White Christmas.” We challenged our own weakness and displayed the considerable progress made in a matter of weeks. And we dedicated Songs of the Season, as always, to an organization that addresses the complex issues of homelessness, drug abuse and dependency, and mental challenges that face so many without reason or rhyme. Our little incident paled in comparison.
As 2024 comes to an end, we wish our loyal readers all the best of the holiday season! May you be surrounded by love and support and may you find the courage and humility to acknowledge that fact. May you find the personal strength to face all challenges with resolute resiliency. And may you look around and, while appreciating your own blessings, find ways to help others who may not enjoy even a modicum of your own comforts. Life is short; cherish your own and enrich all those you can. Happy holidays!
Donna Sachet is a celebrated performer, fundraiser, activist, and philanthropist who has dedicated over two decades to the LGBTQ Community in San Francisco. Contact her at empsachet@gmail.com
Donna’s Chronicles
Published on December 19, 2024
Recent Comments