‘My Glory’: The truest meaning of friendship
Heart transplant patient didn’t fight her battle alone
Memoirs written by people who have survived devastating illnesses are common, as are books that celebrate the friend who is an angel-like presence in tough times. Amy Silverstein’s My Glory Was I Had
Such Friends (Harper Wave, 328 pp., combines both elements, but in far better fashion than the standard-issue memoir or the typical homage to girlfriends.
Here’s why: Silverstein lived 26 years with a transplanted heart, endured countless close-call ER visits, 75 painful heart biopsies, thousands of doses of medications, and finally, breast cancer (from the anti-rejection drugs) and a double mastectomy weeks before the heart sputtered toward complete failure.
Yet she does not present herself as a saintly sort who suffered for decades while camouflaging her anguish and devoting her energy to enriching the lives of others. In fact, she was often churlish, self-absorbed and downright unlikable.
So unpleasant was she toward some who were trying to help that when her survival was far from certain, her husband advised her to weigh everything she might say against how she would want to be remembered.
Then there’s the way she handled the friend thing. There was not just one angel, but nine — most of them fiftysomething friends with families and highpower jobs — who created a beat-Amy’s-bedside spreadsheet. At least one would be with her 24/7 while she awaited another heart. Most flew from the East Coast to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles.
Each member of the pal posse brought her own brand of aid and comfort. Silverstein loved each one and found that as she inched ever closer to death — with no new heart materializing — conversations and feelings grew ever more honest. And precious.
Her story is a potent reminder of the importance of imperfect friends, for loving them for who- ever they are. It is also a deep dive into the facts and issues relating to transplanted hearts. They give patients time (usually just 10 years, not the 26 Silverstein got from hers), but life after a heart transplant is not a smooth sail.
And finally, it is a reminder that when a patient is severely ill, loved ones should support her if she decides to stop fighting. Silverstein was very close: She had a number taped to her hospital wall that indicated the day she was going to turn off the pacemaker keeping her alive. Her greatest comfort was the friends who cried but accepted her choice.
Silverstein proved her writing mettle in 2007 with Sick Girl, which described her experiences when, as a 25-year-old law school student, she discovered her birth heart needed to be replaced. With this new book, she seamlessly knits several important issues into one compelling package.