Glamour, Interrupted
How I Became the Best-Dressed Patient in Hollywood
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- € 15,99
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- € 15,99
Beschrijving uitgever
Before Steven Cojocaru was diagnosed with polycystic kidney disease, he could never have imagined himself living anything other than a high-glam Hollywood lifestyle. A bon vivant on two coasts, he held jobs as both the red carpet guru for Entertainment Tonight and the fashion correspondent for the Today show, hauling his suitcase full of flat irons and designer boots from New York to Los Angeles and back again, every week. He was Cojo, professional glamour boy with a barbed tongue who went shopping with J.Lo and traded fashion tips with Gwyneth.
But a painful and ironically unglamorous reality would begin to form itself around his life, and Cojo found himself with a new Rolodex of A-List friends: The kidney team at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles.
In a memoir that moves beyond the celebrity, Glamour, Interrupted is an inspiring and darkly humorous story about how, in the midst of a world obsessed with youth and beauty, Cojo survived what turned out to be the fight of his life. From drug-induced meltdowns to waking up in the hospital on life support, Cojo recounts his desperate hunt for a new kidney—after a failed transplant and months of dialysis—that ended with a twist of fate and forged an even stronger bond with his mother.
With a bit of eye cream, a little concealer, and just a touch of bronzer, he found a strength he didn't know he had, and used his unfaltering sense of humor to help him survive.
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Cojocaru, a "red carpet" correspondent for Entertainment Tonight and the Insider, was enjoying a fabulous, glamorous life, making a living by trading drinks and naughty secrets with all the Hollywood hotties. "Cojo" would talk "pig latin with Shakira," advise Gwyneth on her cleavage or needle Jude Law about his eyelash extensions to see if he'd blush. But then Cojo's campy, air-kissed lifestyle came to an abrupt halt when his doctor discovered he had PKD, polycystic kidney disease. At first, denial seemed his only option, since telling his family would unleash a major emotional tsunami and telling his friends would trigger the usual Hollywood avoidance of the diseased. Clueless about how to handle a major life problem, he self-medicated with old movies, picturing himself as Garbo in Camille, until he had no choice but to start treatment. His first kidney transplant failed; he learned to do peritoneal dialysis awaiting his second transplant, a gift from his mother. After all this, he also was beginning to understand how to live a healthier life, both physically and spiritually. Such a disease-recovery story could be utterly sappy, but Cojo is too funny, too aware of how ridiculous he is, to get maudlin. His story's a great pick-me-up for any girlfriend (male or female) facing serious unpleasantness.
