[loud, fast panicked breathing]
[wind blows eerily]
* [guitar playing backwards, discordant and unsettling] *
[whooshing sound]
[breathing louder]
[ragged gasping]
- Talking horse: Almost done!
[pulse oximeter monitor beeps]
[panting]
- I came out of 13 hours of brain surgery
a little bit disoriented. [pulse oximeter monitor beeps]
- No, it's Wisconsin.
- But, it's better than taking a dirt nap.
[chants to self in hoarse voice] It's better than a dirt nap.
[speaking like Monty Python] - Mmm...
I was just about to reveal myself to him
when I thought,
"Waitomo...
When he and the other students finished film school,
a lot of them headed for the big city,
seeking fame and fortune.
He headed to the rural Midwest.
[fluid sloshes]
I guess it was that hippie
"back to the land" thing of the '60s and '70s.
Hmm?
What a tool!
But it turned out he had a knack
for making things like nature,
Indians,
[chanting, drumming at Pow-wow]
[shoots a black-powder musket] regional history--
even polka-- interesting. [accordion plays Oompa music]
This may be a chance to show them
there's a lighter, more humorous side
to brain tumors.
Those bloody TV documentaries
don't have to be so
"Eat your vegetables..."
and sanctimonious about it.
So, I sent him back
so he can document it.
But he better keep it light, or people will tune out.
[wind blows]
Stupid humans!
* [guitar playing backwards, discordant and unsettling] *
*
- Patient: I found lots of interesting stuff
to make documentaries about and I became regionally-known.
[sandhill cranes honk rattling bugle calls]
I guess that's the fame.
I'm still waiting
on the fortune.
It seems there's an unwritten rule
that you get to make shows
about stuff you like as long as you don't
make any money doing it.
Oh, well!
There's always life.
Maybe that's the
fortune.
Or, maybe it's the
gobs of money you can make...
substitute teaching.
[student vocalizes happily] It was only a few weeks earlier
when life was pretty good.
I was substitute teaching and really enjoying it, especially
Special Ed.
I'd been losing weight,
but that's a good thing, isn't it?
[crowd cheering] - Spectator: Hey, want a beer?
- I started being concerned
when I refused a beer at a baseball game.
That's a sin here in Wisconsin.
Then, I started feeling like
I was walking onboard a ship.
A few weeks later,
after brain surgery,
I couldn't walk at all.
[pulse oximeter monitor beeping]
- Okay, are you seeing things upside down?
Okay, okay.
All right, Okay.
Just calm down, and you know that things are okay.
It's just the way you're seeing things, okay?
Calm down... just....
- Patient: If your loved one ever has brain surgery,
try and stay near at all times.
You're the only thing
that makes any kind of sense to them.
Even if you appear to be 'upside-down.'
- It's kind of like having a piano dropped on you.
'Cause think about what they do!
They essentially got to
cut a hole in the bone in your head.
And then, they have to carefully dissect out that tumor.
And that is painful.
Imagine that your brain tumor
is a drop of oil
that's immersed in a block of Jell-O.
And that surgeon has to go in there,
and remove that drop of oil.
And imagine:
working with a piece of Jell-O
to dissect through it to get to the oil.
And that's all surrounded by the bony skull
and all of the other crucial anatomy
you need to function.
- Patient: Ordinary things
have a sinister edge, like...
clowns do to some people.
Everything's scary.
The brain surgeon
hadn't pulled any punches before the surgery.
He said I might wake up paralyzed, or as a vegetable,
or, I might not wake up at all.
So, a few hallucinations... Mmm...
didn't bother me.
I didn't die,
but to remove the tumor,
they had to leave some things in the operating room sink.
It was obvious that
the nerves that control balance and swallowing
were damaged or gone.
Reality had to be
rebuilt from the ground up.
[fast breathing]
Each person has a unique set of tools
with which they build their own reality.
Sometimes,
that version looks a little weird to others.
So I had to limit what I was perceiving
to relate to the version of reality that we all share.
The version that we've been learning since we were babies.
It was a struggle.
I was perceiving so much more!
But, it's easy to get lost in your own world.
That's commonly called,
[singsong voice] "Craaa-zzzyy."
[pulse oximeter monitor beeps]
My childhood nickname was "D-D."
When asked if I was tired, I said
"I not tired, I D-D."
So, I was kinda' back.
And I came back to find,
I'd ripped out a feeding tube attached to my nose
at the height of my hallucinations.
I'd often laughed at old guys
who put cigarettes up to
their trachea tubes.
I'd never dreamt I'd have the pleasure
of having one myself.
But... it was there
when I woke up.
A stomach tube had been
implanted surgically.
I don't remember any of this.
It meant I could only have liquid food.
I ended up having it for 16 months.
[Pfft!]
[pulse oximeter monitor beeping]
So, I was a complicated patient,
recovering from brain surgery,
but with a stomach feeding tube that meant liquid food only.
I was also on
about 25 pills that
all had to be crushed and taken with liquid.
Then, there was the breathing tube.
A new nurse came on duty every eight to ten hours,
and faced a floor full of patients.
I was amazed at the competence
of most of them, but...
...mistakes were inevitable.
- Nurse: Now you just leave the nursing to me.
[quietly whimpers in pain]
[sighs]
[patient sniffles loudly]
- You have to give up control.
Sometimes, that was really hard for me
because I felt like I was in the hands of someone that,
frankly,
I didn't think was very smart.
That's really scary!
Looking back,
that probably made me unduly paranoid about
nurses.
- Dr. Morganweck: When you're not healthy,
then you get into "body betrayal."
"How could my body do this to me?"
Many medical schools do have
formal ethics courses
to try to get
students to understand that
although a patient is in a hospital,
they have a whole life
that's a lot more important
than being in the hospital.
- Patient: One nurse was great!
All I remember
is her gentle touch in the middle of the night.
I was sedated, so sometimes she had to change my sheets.
I was slightly... ashamed, but she didn't seem to notice.
She seemed only to care about my comfort.
What a gentle touch!
I learned that the rules, probably written
to satisfy the hospital's lawyers,
could be ignored or bent at the patient's request.
I asked for no more midnight wake-ups for weighing.
It was on the list
for the nurse to do between midnight and 8 a.m.
and I much preferred 8 a.m.
[pulse oximeter monitor beeps]
I also learned that I could refuse the daily
diabetes pin pricks
and the uncomfortable blood-circulation socks.
[compression stocking snaps against calf]
- Dr. Morganweck: There is this idea that
patients will receive all this information,
and then, sort of do
a "Mr. Spock"
very intellectual balance
of the benefits and the burdens
of the treatment options.
And human beings...
don't really...
work that way.
We're not Spock .
We do have emotions.
- Patient: For some reason,
people tend to shield patients from the outside world,
pretending that it's all sweetness and light.
[imitates overly-positive voice] "That's great!"
Patients sometimes have
more than enough darkness to deal with.
I always thought cards were corporate exploitation
of people's guilt,
but they sure brightened up
the sterile hospital environment.
[yawns]
*
People were kind
in many ways.
When I got home, casseroles magically showed up
at our door.
The cynicism of my everyday life disappeared.
It turned out that I was a member of a community
that I didn't even know that I was considered a part of.
I vowed to be a better part of it, if I survived.
Survival
was a big question.
Things were still looking pretty bad.
Visitors hid their shock well
at how bad I looked.
It was great to have company,
even though they sometimes said...
really dumb things.
- Well, a guy who is a friend of my cousin's,
had a cancer operation
and he was at work the following Monday!
- Patient: Oh, well! They mean well!
You don't have the heart to
tell them that all cases are completely different.
But, you can't help feeling that they're partly thinking,
"What a nice person I am
to visit this poor bastard in the hospital."
- One day, you are perfectly functional:
going to work, interacting with your family.
And then, essentially, something happens
that changes that.
And it isn't like:
you go to surgery, they remove it, and you're better.
There is a recovery period, which can be years.
And there can be physical therapy.
There can be occupational therapy.
There can be psychological therapy.
[cosmic space music]
- Patient: I was still waking up
seeing everything upside-down.
[agitated groaning]
I fell out of bed... a lot.
[sheets slipping, thud]
- The consequences of brain surgery
are probably the most intense of all medicine,
and the brain is your personality.
And so, when that patient wakes up, are they the same?
And a lot of times, they're not.
[strained, hoarse voice] - Patient: I'm calling a cab to take me to the hotel
where my wife and sister are staying.
- If you don't calm down, I'll have to restrain you.
[patient spits "Quaat-ptt!"]
[nurse exhales with disgust]
[nurse pulls tissues from box and wipes glasses off]
- Dr. Morganweck:
It's a significant impact to your dignity. - [patient moans involuntarily]
- Dr. Morganweck: It restricts you as a human being.
On the other hand, sometimes you need it.
-[patient groans in frustration]
- Dr. Morganweck: This is ethics. You're balancing things.
- [patient moans angrily and breathes heavily]
- And trying to get the right balance
is always very difficult.
- Rehabilitator: Good, Okay.
This way.
Doing okay?
- Mm-hmm.
- Rehabilitator: There, this one.
Nice job! This one.
- Patient: Still, I showed signs of getting better
and rehabilitation began.
- Chantel Hasman, P.T.: We try to put the person
back in control of their life, again.
Give them strategies
to have more controlled movements,
know where their weaknesses are,
what situations to avoid,
and what situations that they can take pride in.
- Patient: My first night home was scary.
What if I had trouble breathing?
[walker shuffles, bumps floor]
* [guitar playing backwards, discordant and unsettling] *
My worries melted away when I saw the night sky.
The stars seemed like they were
pin-holes in black velvet.
A cosmic green light from behind
glowed through.
The moon was breath-taking.
A hospital psychologist encouraged this
"cosmic" viewpoint,
even though I'd always been sort of cynical
about such things.
She said that my fear of the dark spaces
was an instinct
trying to protect me from the tumor.
I visualized it as
a rat
chewing on the cloth electrical cord
of my Grandma's toaster,
one of those antiques
you'd only see in working order at your grandma's.
An electrical spark zapped the rat!
[guitar instrumental of "Christ the Lord is Risen Today"]
The next morning was the most beautiful I'd ever seen.
Regular,
everyday things were precious.
[birds chirping]
It was like I was seeing everything for the first time.
A few days before, I wasn't sure I'd ever see them again.
It seemed like the nightmare
was finally over.
[needle scratches violently across record player]
[pulse oximeter monitor beeps]
Not long after, I was back in surgery.
The plaster used to protect the brain
after the first surgery
had become infected so it had to be cut out.
Some of the skull went with it.
The skull left was enough to protect the brain,
but the surgeon later laughingly said,
"To be sure and wear a helmet," when I bike.
An MRI was done to see
to see if the tumor had spread down the spinal column.
Luckily, it hadn't.
[guitar instrumental of "Christ the Lord is Risen Today"]
Once again, I was astounded by
the kindness people showed me.
A friend took me for a wheelchair ride
on a warm spring day.
It was great!
I wondered if I'd... see another spring.
That second stay
[clunk] in the hospital really... set me back.
My balance and energy were... dissipated.
But a bigger change
was becoming evident.
Turn!
TURN!
[shouting] God, I can't believe I married such a stupid cow!
- Wife: My husband's personality changed.
He said it was like having...
less insulation around his emotions.
And we went to a surgeon
and we asked the surgeon, you know, what was going on.
And we told the surgeon, you know,
the routines that we were going through each day,
and the medication.
And the surgeon was completely shocked
that my husband was still on steroids.
- Dr. Howard: Well, steroids are a double-edged sword.
But what they do is:
number one, they reduce the
inflammatory response.
But, they also are very good at reducing the swelling.
Your head is a closed space,
and so, when something grows, it pushes on things.
And there are good aspects to being treated with steroids,
there are bad aspects of being treated with steroids.
It tends to make you very emotional.
- Patient: I had trouble with another type of drug, too.
This one, I administered to myself at home
through a small machine that was hard-wired
directly into my bloodstream.
I began to feel kind of weird so I went in for a blood test.
My doctor said to drive to the emergency room immediately.
I thought he was being a "Nervous Nelly."
I felt fine;
Then I passed out.
I was in a tunnel.
It was lined with purple shag carpeting.
You know, the kind Elvis probably had at Graceland.
I don't know if this struck me as too...
...too tacky, or what, but I turned around.
[pulse oximeter continues beeping]
I was Code Blue .
All my functions had stopped.
But they started up again of their own volition.
I don't know how
"Do Not Resuscitate" or "Donor" forms would have come into play.
Luckily, I didn't find out.
I had a serious infection called sepsis .
I probably got it from the little machine connection.
I suddenly felt chilled and a little scared
by the suits
people who came into contact with me
were supposed to wear.
What was I, like, " human Plutonium ?!?"
- Wow!
I heard that you went down the tunnel.
Did you come back with any insights?
- Peace and love, man.
- It's all good.
- Yeah... Actually, it's not.
It's not good or bad or anything.
It just is .
[patient thinking] The universe I saw
seemed organized by some sort of force,
but it was either real calm or real busy elsewhere,
probably with [Irving snores] important universal stuff.
It'd be real easy to just go with the flow,
but that would involve being dead
and I wasn't ready for that yet.
Dying's easy.
Any idiot can do it.
It's living on
that takes a special kind of idiot.
One thing I did see:
If we truly want peace and love, we better find them here.
I half-expected to go down the tunnel again,
but I got better.
As my brain rebuilt my version of reality,
I always had to decide what was real
and what was hallucination-- the tumor talking.
Sometimes, I saw really weird things
that turned out to have their basis
in our shared reality.
Life, in all its weirdness...
- Talking Horse: Almost done. - Patient: ...goes on.
I saw what I wanted to see
when I went down the tunnel.
I think individuals see
what's buried deeply in their brains.
If they're religious, they might see their deity.
As for me,
I saw the calm indifference of the vast universe
to one small individual.
It was made clear.
And it was scary.
- I did my best to make it homey.
- Patient: Back in everyday life, I was...
[couple arguing] ...hard to live with... unpleasant and demanding...
I had tics I didn't even realize I had.
I was getting increasingly
negative.
Maybe it was a reaction
to my feeling diminished as a person.
I thought most people were treating me like a cripple
and it made me mad.
I felt overwhelmed in intense situations.
[vehicle's loud warning beeps] I heard a loud screaming sound,
and I felt things closing in on me,
and I was powerless to stop them.
This is probably because I was still dealing with
suddenly being a disabled person.
I felt weak as a kitten,
so I didn't suspect
that I was physically scary to anyone.
I was distracted by my focus on healing.
- Wife: Okay, do I turn here?
- Uh, no.
Yes. YES!!
- Wife: All... right!
You do not get to yell at me just because I missed a turn.
- Patient: Jeez! Gah! Just watch where you're driving!
Gaaahhh! [wife guns engine] Ahhhh! GOD!
- [wife gasps] HEY!! HEY!! - [patient gasps in panic]
[breathes as if sobbing]
- Patient: Unfortunately, people who had no idea
of my health history had to deal with my problems.
Ask anybody: I'm a...
...a well-known citizen in this area.
[somber instrumental music]
I'll bet if I had a local name and drank with you in the bars,
you'd send me home with a warning.
- Calm down, sir, or I'll have to restrain you!
- I hope you get cancer someday! Then, you'll know how it feels.
[groaning in pain] Ahhh!
You cops need some empathy training!
[car door closes loudly]
I maybe could have got the charge dismissed,
but I came off as kind of crazy,
even though in my heart of hearts, I knew I wasn't.
Besides, I didn't know if I was going to live very long,
and I certainly didn't want to spend my precious last moments
in court.
Interestingly, the field tests were very similar
to those a neurologist gives brain tumor patients.
And I failed both.
I was very happy just to be alive.
That feeling lasted for about five minutes.
Then, reality set in.
[door closes]
[crash]
[tailgater honks impatiently six times]
[Honking tailgater guns engine, races past]
#### off!
[frustrated, enraged growl]
- GRRRRRRR!!
Ever since the operation,
I have a sort of emotional " Tourette's Syndrome ."
Emotions erupt unexpectedly.
That's good, in that
it puts me more in direct contact with my feelings,
but I can be hard to be around.
It takes a conscious effort to try and control it.
[MRI machine clangs mechanically]
I have to have MRIs every couple of months to see
if the tumor is behaving itself
and not growing.
If they took it all out,
I'd likely be left a vegetable.
So, I have to live with it.
[MRI machine clangs mechanically]
- MRIs are very useful for diagnosis.
Your following that tumor to make sure it's not coming back
or your following that tumor to make sure it's not growing.
And so MRIs are very important.
And the brain tumor patients can get them anywhere
from every three months to every year,
after they're treated, sometimes for a lifetime.
You receive no radiation with an MRI scan.
So, from that point of view, it's very safe.
- Patient: Initially, the MRIs were inconclusive.
The tumor might be growing so radiation treatments began.
[piano instrumental]
- Dr. Howard: That radiation induces damage
into both their normal cells, and into cancer cells.
But the reason this all works, is every normal cell
in your body has the ability to fix radiation damage.
And it's because we're exposed to it wherever we go.
And so, we take advantage of that.
Now, one of the properties of a tumor is continuous growth.
And in the order for the repair of radiation damage to occur
the cell has to more or less pause, and put on the brakes,
recognize the damage and fix it.
Most tumors are deficient in that ability.
- I'm a radiation therapist so I deliver
the radiation treatment that the doctor prescribes.
Every day.
And it can be anywhere from
three weeks to seven weeks for patients.
But they see us every day,
Monday through Friday, for that course.
- When I first started back in the mid-80s,
with being a radiation therapist, it was somewhere
around 35%, 36% of patients
lived five years after their radiation
or any of their cancer treatments were done.
Nowadays, that's crested beyond 50%.
- Patient: Radiation treatments didn't turn me into a superhero
with the proportionate strength of a spider.
They kicked my ass.
I had to go every day for six weeks.
In some ways, it seemed worse than surgery.
- Dan Steinhof,R.T.: They do not allow you to move around very much.
The second point that masks help you with is that
you're able to put all the marks
that you need for positioning
on the mask, not on the patient.
When I started in the mid-80s,
we would put all the marks on the patient.
If you can imagine going out into the world
with all these marks on your face, upper chest.
- We're not just turning the beam on
and getting them on the table and off the table.
Were always, "Hey, how's it going?
"How was your weekend? Whad'ya do?"
Were trying to get those social things out of people
so they're not feeling isolated
and not socializing with family or friends.
- Patient: I always felt tired.
I lost my appetite.
My balance got really bad.
My hair got even thinner.
I could no longer ride my mountain bike
or cross-country ski. [bangs floor]
But, the tumor died before I did.
It's things like this
that cause all that " courageous battle " talk.
But when it's you fighting the battle,
you don't make a conscious choice.
What are you gonna do:
choose to fight a " cowardly battle ?"
Doctors told me the tumor was dead,
so I had a vision of myself
in my head as "okay."
It was hard to imagine that others saw me differently.
I realized that even my loved ones, at some level,
saw me as damaged goods.
People talked about me right in front of me,
like I wasn't even there.
I shouldn't blame them
for my invisibility.
They're also dealing with the new me.
- It must be... [silent pause]
...really, really hard on the family...
...when a man is in... this condition.
[exhales awkwardly]
[pulse oximeter beeping]
- P.T.: All right, nice job!
Good job! High five! [palms smack together]
- Oh, am I supposed to say,
[as if developmentally disabled] "I wanna go to McDonode's!"
Please don't treat me like a retard.
And I can say that because I'm referring to myself.
Like Chris Rock when he uses the 'n-word.'
- Actually, I prefer you wouldn't use either of those terms around here.
- Patient: You have to realize that you have
personality changes and physical tics
that can be very annoying to others.
People, even friends and family, try to get away from you.
You're no fun!
- You can't blame the pants;
Your butt is big.
When you realize what a drag it is to see you, you're hurt.
But, your medical condition is ultimately your problem--
not other people's.
And if you're not attractive to others,
you'll end up alone.
It's the way of the universe.
- People ignore me as damaged goods.
They seem surprised to find out I'm still alive.
Oh, yeah, it would be more convenient for them
if I died.
What about me?
I'm the one that got SCREWED BY LIFE!
Good thing you have to put up with me
"In sickness and in health" and all that.
[door slams shut]
[poignant music]
Sickness is powerful.
It can transcend the very framework of society.
The institution of marriage can be real strong,
but sickness can overwhelm it.
Brain tumor patients sometimes go through a personality change
and they don't even realize it.
Their partners feel stuck
with someone they don't know.
Yeah, yeah, it was a stupid thing to consider.
"A permanent solution to a temporary problem.
The coward's way out." ...all that...
But I was new to being disabled
and even newer to being alone.
I was at my wits' end!
A very short trip.
[Irving sobbing loudly]
- Oh, this is painful to watch.
Ugh!
Humans make such a big deal
about their little problems.
I really need to evolve them.
Ah, who's got the time?
- Dr. Morganweck: Humor, done well
is... sharing the experience.
You find out you're not the only one feeling terrible.
Feeling like whatever you felt,
or saying,
"I wish I had known before what I know now."
[leaves rustle underfoot]
- There's nothing more touching than a kid with a shaved head.
The fund-raisers love it!
But you can't rely on people's kindness.
You've got to fight !
[pats kid on shoulder]
[patient hobbles away, through rustling leaves]
- What an asshole!
- Patient: It's sad that most of the bald kids
shown in fundraising commercials for cancer research
never live to benefit from the research.
Maybe that's why "sickies"
tend to resent "wellies"--
even well-intentioned "wellies."
How could they possibly know
what it's like to go through
what we're...
going through?
You ignore the paralysis,
the lack of basic motor skills,
the body thermal regulatory issues,
and other wonderful changes.
Excuse me a minute.
[cane taps against floor]
[toilet flushing]
You become very aware of the alternative.
And these changes are trivial by comparison!
You have to keep telling yourself that,
even if you forget it every five minutes.
You forget your cosmic visions pretty fast
when you have trouble just functioning normally.
[dramatic organ music]
You have to embrace the value of each day!
Of course, you may be taking refuge in the mundane.
- [student vocalizes happily] - You'll never be the same,
but then you realize
that this has happened before in your life.
When things change,
you've got the opportunity to build a better life.
[ The Three Stooges playing]
[deep belly laughs]
A small bit of the brain tumor is still there,
exerting pressure on vital nerves.
You hear experts on NPR
saying the brain is complex
and finds alternative circuits.
I keep waiting
for mine to find a way to make my balance better.
[crashes onto floor] Waiting and waiting and waiting...
- I've had privilege to know a lot of very interesting people.
And, we've actually helped these people.
We might not have cured them,
but we gave them good quality time
and, to me, that has been exceptionally rewarding.
Just not helping people, but also...
meeting all these exceptionally interesting people
and seeing how they deal with their disease.
The most common one in my clinic
is the Grade IV glioma,
sometimes called a glioblastoma multiforme .
And this tumor is virtually fatal in everybody.
And that's probably
the most common brain tumor we see.
And there's maybe about 20,000 a year in the United States.
[peaceful piano instrumental]
Ependymomas: we see successes like you.
Now, a ependymomal tumor, or ependymoma,
is a so-called tumor
that arose in the lining of the ventricles
or whatever there are ependymal cells.
You went through a lot,
and everything from postoperative complications,
to a long recovery period.
And it's simply where your tumor was located.
It was right next to the brainstem.
- Patient: This was strangely comforting to hear.
I was slightly paranoid
that people thought I'd been crying wolf.
It was "only" a brain tumor--
not full-blown brain cancer.
And, weirdly, for me, it never really sunk in
how close I'd come to death,
how close to the edge of the abyss
I'd skated.
- Dr. Howard: We treat tumors with radiation, which is toxic.
We treat patients with chemotherapy, which is toxic.
Essentially, the way we're treating cancer
is with therapy that makes you sick... Okay?
And so, the concept there
"where you got to get sick to get better,"
that makes people courageous.
WHOO! [laughing]
[amped-up pedaling]
[groaning, crash]
[coughs, pants] Eh!
[laughs to self while coping with pain]
I used to be quite an athlete.
[sighs]
Not any more.
You've somehow got to learn to adjust,
to love yourself for what you are,
even though it's different from what you were before.
[singing "Bright Morning Stars"]
Then, you've gotta convince other people,
"Hey, no biggie!"
[Irving makes gagging sound]
- Aww...
Stop all that feeling sorry for yourself!
[music stops]
The audience'll lose interest in you.
You're only one of billions of people.
[under breath] So he's a mutant!
Big deal!
* Bright morning stars are rising *
- Patient: I've mutated into a new person.
The old one died on the operating table.
It takes a long time to adjust
to being a whole different person.
Springsteen said in one of his songs that,
"He was going to bury his old soul
and dance on its grave."
That gives me hope!
[song stops abruptly, needle scratches across record player]
- Stop all of that!
He'll live.
He's just got some issues to work through.
[sighs with exasperation]
Oh, all right, say something sentimental.
But if he gets maudlin, I swear to Me ,
I'll turn him into a newt!
Then, he'll really have something to cry about.
["Bright Morning Stars" resumes]
* Bright morning stars are rising *
- Sure, the healthcare system in the United States
could be better,
but you don't care about that when the universe comes calling.
You're just grateful that the system is good enough.
Dedicated doctors, nurses, and technicians
kept me alive.
You tend to be thankful for that.
You feel like the same person,
but others see you as disabled.
Some people feel they should treat
those of us facing physical challenges...
differently.
That's great! - Caregiver: Okay.
- Sometimes...
One thing seems to be true:
Everyone wrestles with difficult circumstances
at some point.
That's part of being alive.
And believe me,
- Student: Whoa!! [laughing]
- Patient: It's better than a dirt nap.
[birds chirping]
It's weird.
Sometimes, all you can do is laugh.
[birds chirping boisterously]
[water current]
- Although you've been through a lot, you are a survivor.
[Irving crying]
- Is he?
[gruffly] Well,
where do you think you got it from?
["Infinite Night" by Carrie Rodriguez]
* When it's more than you can bear *
* Let the silence fill the air
* You get a glimpse of the holy light *
* Well the sun is just a star
* It reminds us where we are
* Just a little part of the infinite night *
* Infinite night