Illness was blessing to comic's family: sons Tony
and Kelly, wife Dolores, daughters Nora and Linda.
What I've Learned from My Illness
by Dob Hope With frankness and humor, one of the
busiest performers In show business tells how he's adjusted to a new life.
The doctor said, "Just, cool it." At least, that's
how my son, Kelly, interpreted it. And there I
was, on my patio, looking out over the carpet-soft
green lawn, the one-hole golf course, the swimming
pool doing nothing. Even looking at my scrap
books was forbidden, so I'm taking it easy, and I'm
getting better at it every day.
It's no laughing matter not when I remember
how I walked out of the Columbia Medical Center
in New York last January with two choices: keep
up my pace of the past twenty years and find myself
doing monologues from a wheel chair, or slow down
and live with my illness, until I had it licked.
The diagnosis had been some fancy Latin word.
Translated into plain English, it meant a blood clot
behind my left eye, with my vision cut to 30 percent.
It was caused by high blood pressure which, in turn,
was due to overwork. Should it spread to the main
artery, I was told well, it just couldn't.
I had the first hint of trouble last Christmas dur
ing my trip abroad to entertain troops.
I had started out tired. Three nights on the plane
didn't improve my condition, nor did performing in
a driving rain on the aircraft carrier Forrestal, or
the grueling schedule that took us to 18 Army and
Navy posts in 12 days.
I was plagued by nausea and dizziness, headaches
and recurrent pains in both eyes. One night at a
party for our troupe in Frankfurt, Germany, I
nearly fell flat on my face. In Keflavik, Iceland, I
did collapse and was pumped full of penicillin by
an Army doctor who ordered me to take it easy.
Unfortunately, I was sure there was nothing wrong
with me that a few days rest after I got home
wouldn't cure. I simply didn't know what it meant
to be sick. I'd lived 54 years and had never missed
a day's work, never been idle.
Nevertheless, when I got home December 29, at
my wife's urging I consulted our family physician,
Dr. Thomas Hearn. He agreed that I should take it
easy, and gave me codeine pills to relax, ease the
pain, and help dilate the blood vessels.
I took the pills and ignored the rest of his advice.
Three weeks later I was playing golf in Palm
Springs when suddenly I couldn't focus my eyes.
Two hours later Dr. Hearn told me the blood clot
was spreading. Next day I was on my way to
Columbia Medical Center.
The seriousness of my condition didn't hit me
until I told some newsmen who met my plane that
I was going to see Dr. Algernon Reese. "
One of the reporters said,, "I understand he's a
cancer specialist."
I thought my heart had stopped beating. I tried to
Coven
Besides being Britain's most beautiful mon
arch, Queen Elizabeth 11 is also the busiest,
as today's cover painting by Fred Steffen
suggests. For the story of "How the Queen
Sttnds the Pace," see page 6.
think of an appropriate joke but I couldn't even
think of an answer. Suddenly I was scared.
An hour later Dr. Reese assured me there was no
evidence of cancer. But he wouldn't minimize the
danger to my health.
For three days I went through extensive tests at
that penicillin pentagon, which has so many sub
terranean passages that I ran into John L. Lewis
three times before I saw daylight again.
I also passed through periods of despair and
depression. I kept on feeling sorry for myself until
I took a good look at the other patients with one
or both eyes missing, with heavily bandaged faces,
immobile in bed or being helplessly led around by
nurses. If they could live in their conditions, I could
certainly learn to make the best of mine!
"At least when I meet my friends on the golf
course now," I told the head physician, "they can
talk about my eye instead of my ski nose."
He didn't even smile. "For the next two weeks,"
he replied soberly, "I don't even want you near the
putting green."
By then I was sufficiently worried to follow his
instructions to the letter. Had I had any doubts, the
attitude of my family, my friends, and complete
strangers would have convinced me.
A close friend in Philadelphia wrote that he and
his wife went to church daily to pray for me.
I got so many letters and phone calls from all
over the world that I couldn't help feeling humble.
How lucky can a guy get having friends like that.
And keeping up my hectic pace just because I
enjoyed it was plain selfishness! x
The doctors didn't tell me to quit work entirely
or indefinitely. After two weeks, I was told I could
work and exercise in moderation but must consei-ve
my strength and stop the moment I grew tired.
The first two weeks of relaxation weren't too
hard. The trouble began when I started to feel better.
(Continued on page 4)
weelciy
LEONARD S. DAVIDOW President and Publisher
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Family Weekly, 60 E. 54th St.. New York 22. N I. Y.
1959. FAMILY WEEKLY MAGAZIgt) INC., IS3
June 21,1959
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IEN KARTMAN Executive Editor
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