Archives for April 23, 2019

Charity Tillemann-Dick, a coloratura soprano who suffered from pulmonary hypertension (the same rare disease that afflicts Mrs. T) and who resumed her singing career after undergoing a double lung transplant—the first of two—died this morning. In 2017 she published a memoir, The Encore, and I wrote about it at length in my Wall Street Journal “Sightings” column:

I vaguely recalled having read about her horrific experiences, but knew nothing of the details. Now I know all about them, and I find myself in awe of her, not just because of her indomitable determination but because it turns out that in addition to being an excellent singer, Ms. Tillemann-Dick is also a very fine writer. “The Encore” is one of the best books I’ve ever read about the effects of chronic illness on the human spirit. Most of us, I suspect, like to think that we’d rise to a difficult occasion if forced to do so, but rarely are we put to the test. Ms. Tillemann-Dick was, and she faced it with a courage that I can scarcely begin to fathom.

Ms. Tillemann-Dick was diagnosed in 2004 with pulmonary hypertension, an extremely rare and devastating disease of the lungs. A 20-year-old music student, she’d set her sights on an operatic career, and she had every reason to believe that her dream would come true. Instead, her doctor told her to stop singing at once, warning her that “those high notes are going to kill you.” PH, as it’s known to those who have it, is debilitating, incurable and, if left untreated, fatal. But she refused to give up, telling herself, “I just want to live—really live—for as long as I have left.”

A second, more enlightened specialist encouraged her to keep on singing, and she continued to study and perform for as long as her waning health permitted. Palliative treatments kept her going until 2009, when it finally became clear—as is always the case with end-stage PH—that the only thing that would save her life was a double-lung transplant. Fortunately, she survived the painful operation, and to the amazement of her doctors, she started singing in public again a year later, something that no one but Mrs. Tillemann-Dick had thought possible….

Our hearts go out to Yonatan Doran, Charity’s husband. May he find comfort in the knowledge that her life was a blessing and an inspiration.

One last thing: if you haven’t signed up to be an organ donor, please do so now, and encourage your friends to do likewise. Charity’s life was lengthened to noble effect because two people who never knew her did so.

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A 2011 TED talk by Charity Tillemann-Dick: 

From 2009:

One of my closest friends, a writer whom I admire greatly, has dedicated his latest book to me. I was one of the first people to suggest that he write it, and he claims to have profited from my counsel and encouragement. That’s nice to know–especially since the finished product turned out to be a first-rate piece of work. (I suppose it would feel uncomfortable to be the dedicatee of a piece of junk!) I received a copy of the uncorrected proofs in the mail the other day, and it was a decidedly strange experience to see “For TERRY TEACHOUT” printed on the fifth page. I’ve been written about in a couple of memoirs and mentioned in passing in a half-dozen other volumes of various kinds, but never before have I been the dedicatee of a book….

Read the whole thing here.

“To modern educated people, it seems obvious that matters of fact are to be ascertained by observation, not by consulting ancient authorities. But this is an entirely modern conception, which hardly existed before the seventeenth century. Aristotle maintained that women have fewer teeth than men; although he was twice married, it never occurred to him to verify this statement by examining his wives’ mouths.”

Bertrand Russell, The Impact of Science on Society