In memoriam : Yared of Ethiopia Keep Moving

In Memoriam : Alain Rezelman

I first met Alain in the Health Clinic shortly after I started working there, just over 30 years ago, but not in a professional capacity. One afternoon a nurse popped her head round the door and told me a French Professor was just outside wanting to talk to me about a non-medical issue. "OK" I said hesitantly, undeniably a trifle apprehensive. In the next second Alain had already rushed into the room, a big smile on his face and brandishing a video camera. " I'm doing a promotional video for the university to attract overseas students, it features various departments and facilities, and you're to introduce the clinic " "NO!" I was appalled, being somewhat camera shy. " You see, I'm new here, there must be other doctors who'd do a much better job " But I was no match for the tenacity, persuasiveness and charm Alain had in his disposal to get people to do his biddings, besides which, his boundless enthusiasm was infectious, and before I realized it I was in the video. I never saw the completed video and I pray to God that my part was edited out ! *********************************************************************** Alain was not a regular patient of mine so over the years we did not see much of each other. There were a few consultations involving the children, but every time I saw him, he was seemingly in good health and good cheers. Then one day out of the blue there was a commotion in the clinic, and he was the cause. It transpired Alain was brought in by his wife in an acute state of confusion, he staggered about, totally unaware of his surroundings and spewed gibberish non-stop. ( Turned out he was actually speaking French, having lost all his English in his fugue state, but to non-French speakers it might just as well be gibberish) He was rushed to the regional hospital and a CT scan showed he had suffered a subarachnoid hemorrhage (SAH), a serious bleeding in the brain. " Will he survive ?" the Clinic nurses asked me with concern, they were all quite fond of Alain. "We can only hope," I replied gravely. Mortality from SAH is 40-50%, and over 60% of survivors will have some long term neurological sequelae . Alan surprised us all by not only surviving but bounced back to his energetic old self, with no apparent neurological deficit. All that we could conclude was that his zest for life was far stronger than the grip of the Grim Reaper for a time. ********************************************************************** More years slipped by, then one day Alain came to the clinic with devastating news. He's been diagnosed with the genetic eye disease Retinitis Pigmentosa. He was determined to continue teaching for as long as possible, and coped with his gradually failing eyesight by gradually enlarging the letters on the computer screen. "It's OK, I can do it, just takes more time " he was calm and matter-of -fact, fully ready to adapt to a continuously changing lifestyle. His brother had become completely blind in his 40s so maybe he's had time to process the inevitable, but I was still awed by his seeming lack of self-pity, rage or despair, the sort of reaction anyone presented with this horrifying prospect must surely experience and give vent to, especially in a doctor's office. Amazingly Alain was already planning his future in darkness with his typical undefeatable positive attitude. He was a grounded, practical, remarkable man. *********************************************************************** A few more years on I was told Alain had taken early retirement and had already left for France. We'd lost touch completely . I had no idea he'd returned to Hong Kong after his wife passed, and was living in Mong Kok until much later. In spite of the lapse of many years I found little change in him when we met up again, as he sat, beaming with happiness in the university canteen, eagerly engaged and interested in everything that's going on around him. This was a man who clearly enjoyed life and loved the company of friends, and it was easy to forget his disability. Alain had to be the quintessential poster boy for "how to live with adult onset blindness" : I was totally blown away when he told me he not only shopped on his own at the wet market but went hiking regularly ! How did he do it ? An incident at a dinner gathering provided a clue. We were talking about our favorite food and I gushed "I just love cheesecake !" Alain threw his arms up in the air in disgust and pronounced authoritatively " In this world there's cheese and there's cake, but there's no such thing as cheesecake !" Presumably because he's a Frenchman he's decided he's the definitive food connoisseur, and that's that. His confidence in the belief that he's always right was overpowering, and it struck me then that this was exactly the kind of fiery invincible self-assurance , coupled with a deep sense of pride and dignity, that was needed to generate the driving force that would carry him through the waves of trials and tribulations in his life, and leave him still standing after the tides recede. *********************************************************************** Oh, by the way, the connoisseur's favorite food was deep fried stuffed pig's large intestine, who'd have guessed ! ************************************************************************ Alain's passing is a great loss to everyone who knew him. He was a rare soul and his life had been an inspiration to many. Personally I'd never forget his enthusiasm and optimism, his resourcefulness, his willingness to soldier on and adapt to whatever life throws at him, however hard and unfair. His was the ultimate chameleon of indomitable human spirit, at ease in both good times and bad. With his passing we've lost a good teacher not only in the French language, but also in how to live life on one's own terms, to refuse to bow down to fate and to finally emerge a victor. *********************************************************************** Dear Alain,merci et au revoir, rest in peace !