Martha Mason, who spent six decades of her life encased in an iron lung, passed away recently. Her obituary notes that she excelled in academics as a young woman, had a brief career as a columnist for the local newspaper in her small North Carolina, and eventually wrote an autobiography entitled Breath. Even though more portable ventilators eventually became available, she chose to remain in the iron lung because it “let her breathe without tubes in her throat, incisions or hospital stays, as newer, smaller ventilators might require.” The obit also describes how she still managed to enjoy a rich social life that might not have been possible outside a sleepy Southern town. She had frequent visitors and hosted many dinner parties. She was one of a dwindling handful who still use iron lungs as a form of life support.
I have a hard time imagining what Mason’s life must have been like on a daily basis. And that seems ironic, considering that many of you reading this blog might think the same thing about me. I don’t care how many visitors she had; the isolation and immobility must have weighed heavy on her at times. But she made the most of it, which is all any of us can hope to achieve.
I enjoyed reading the article about Martha Mason so much that I want to thank you for calling the world’s attention to it and to this marvellous woman.
Her life story proves that happiness depends more on the interest you find in life than in circumstances like being able-bodied or disabled, having an easy life or a difficult and restricted one.
I have known a man from my town, completely paralysed after an accident (which happened decades ago), who succesfully set up a firm, and told his parents they couldn’t imagine how happy he is.