Once in a while somebody special will come along and completely three-sixty the way you approach life, or at the very least make you review how it’s going at present.

This happened to me last Thursday whilst in ambulatory care at the hospital. There I was relaxing on one of the two  recliners waiting for my daily dose of treatment to be pumped intravenously into my body when I noticed a middle-aged man in the bed diagonally opposite me. He was lying down and what caught my attention immediately was the fact that his stomach was abnormally large and fluid was being drained from it. I wondered what his condition was and how he ended up in that bizarre situation. Curious as I was, I decided it best not to say anything. So I focused on the tennis being played on the television screen hanging from the ceiling above me.

It wasn’t long before I learned that the gentleman across from me was quite talkative, grasping at any opportunity to engage in conversation with one of the attending nurses. A couple of hours later most of the liquid had been drained from his body and his stomach had shrunken to its normal (less freakish) size. Soon he was sitting up on the bed and chattering away. I had since learned that his name was Michael.

A moment presented itself where it was basically Michael and myself in the room and sensing that it was the right time I asked the man with the friendly eyes the question that had been plaguing me ever since I had first set eyes on him. Michael advised that his heart wasn’t functioning normally and the result was that his body retained fluid at an incredible rate, most of which was going to his stomach. He stood up at one point and recounted the time he bought XXL shorts at a shop and laughed as he told the story, for the sales person didn’t believe the shorts were for him despite his honest claims that they were. I laughed along.

It saddened me, broke my heart, to know that such a spirited character who had been in hospital only once in his sixty years was now faced with a heart that was failing. The doctors told him that his only chance was to find a new heart. Earlier one of the nurses asked if this worried him, and his response was simply

if I die, bad luck.

What struck me more than that comment was when Michael stated that he wasn’t "cranky" (to use his words) with it all. As, to paraphrase,

being cranky is not good for no one.

The man - in his simple yet infinite wisdom - had an optimism and a passion for life that blew me away and touched my soul deeply.

Once my treatment was over I stuck around a little longer. I pretended to watch television but  I was there because I somehow felt that I was in the presence of a great spirit.

Michael told me that he felt bad for young people such as myself who had to go into hospital for whatever reason. To him, there was so much more to life than dealing with illness and staring out the window inside a room in a hospital. He smiled when I said that I was improving.

Michael spoke to the nurse about his two dogs - his babies. His eyes lit up as he spoke about them. He also believed that people who didn’t like pets or specific types of animals were more inclined to be racist. The nurse, also an animal lover, nodded knowingly. She listened to him, and for that he was grateful.When the nurse’s shift was over and she was ready to leave he thanked her and told her that she was special, not in those words exactly but the sentiment was there.

It was at this point that I also took my leave and I wished him the best of luck with finding a heart, and he wished me a speedy recovery.

Had this been Christmas and I were twenty years younger I might have thought that I had just met Santa Claus. Or perhaps this was the angel that John Travolta portrayed in the movie "Michael"? Was the name a mere coincidence?

Whatever it was, once in a while somebody special will come along and completely three-sixty the way you approach life, or at the very least make you understand that staying positive i.e.. having hope and a healthy attitude is important when life challenges you.

Thank you Michael, and good luck.