This column originally appeared in January, 2011
According to a recent survey by Men’s Health magazine and CNN, one-third of American men have not had a checkup in the past year. Nine million men haven’t seen a doctor in the last five years. From childhood on, boys are told (usually by their fathers) to “shake it off’” and “You’ll be fine.” For males, to admit to having a pain or some other problem is somehow viewed as a weakness. It’s seen as a threat to masculine pride and challenges the male provider role, not to mention it goes against all of the things men are taught while growing up.
The male denial factor is unrelated to occupation, age level, race or socioeconomic status. No matter how smart or strong a man is, no matter what kind of professional status he’s achieved, he can still ignore the obvious warning signs and pay the unnecessary consequences. Those consequences can be serious. Statistics show that before age 65, men suffer 2.5 times more heart attacks than women; after age 65, one in three men suffers from high blood pressure, a primary risk for heart attacks. Yet men are less likely than women to have their blood pressure checked.
An American Medical Association study in 1990 found that men don’t go to the doctor because of fear, denial, embarrassment and threatened masculinity. Ironically, the date of this study coincides with the death date of one of two famous men whose premature death might have been prevented with proper medical attention.
The first, Walt Disney, died on December 15, 1966 of cancer. Cancer that would have gone undiagnosed was it not for a nagging sports injury. In October 1966, Disney was scheduled to undergo neck surgery for an old polo injury; he had played frequently at the Riveria Club in Hollywood for many years. On November 2, 1966, during pre-surgery X-rays, doctors at Providence St. Joseph Medical Center (located across the street from the Disney Studios) discovered that Disney had several enormous tumors on his left lung. The Doctor’s report describes Disney’s condition as “left lung riddled with tumors the size of walnuts.”
Immediate surgery was advised but Walt checked out to finish some studio business and re-entered the hospital on November 6. Disney checked into the hospital for surgery for both his neck injury, as well as to have the tumor removed, but doctors discovered that during that short 5 day delay, the tumor had spread so rapidly that they had to remove his entire left lung. Surgery was performed the next day and his left lung was found to be cancerous and was removed. The doctors then told Disney that he only had six months to a year to live.
Walt, a lifetime smoker, preferred to smoke unfiltered Lucky Strikes, but later switched to Gitanes, French cigarettes referred to in some circles as “Lungbusters.” The Gitanes tobacco achieved its characteristic and distinctive “bite” by using a fire-flued method of curing the tobacco rolled in rice paper which differs from most cigarettes. The resulting cigarette was stronger in flavor with a distinctive aroma. At the Disney studios, employees knew that they would smell him before they saw him and, failing that, Walt’s cough always warned his employees that he was near.
After several pain filled chemotherapy sessions, Disney and his wife Lillian took a short vacation in Palm Springs, California, before returning home. After spending Thanksgiving Day with his family, he collapsed at his home from a heart attack on November 30, 1966, but was revived by paramedics, and quickly driven back to St. Joseph’s Hospital. He lost consciousness regularly, spending his 65th birthday in the hospital with his wife and children at his bedside.
Lillian spent some time with him on December 14 and he was visited by his brother Roy in the evening, who left the room crying. Roy ordered the lights at the Disney Studio across the street to stay on 24 hours a day while Walt was in the hospital. Walt often asked his nurses to prop him up so he could see the studios. Walt Disney, who built his whimsical cartoon world of Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Snow White and the Seven Dwarves into a $100-million-a-year entertainment empire, died at 9:30 a.m. on Thursday, December 15, 1966, ten days after his 65th birthday.
The cause of his death was announced as acute circulatory collapse and was listed as cardiac arrest on his death certificate. The cancer in his lungs was probably considered to be of secondary importance. The last thing he reportedly wrote before his death was the name of actor Kurt Russell, but even Russell himself does not know what Disney meant.
Disney was cremated and his funeral was held at the Little Church of the Flowers at Forest Lawn Cemetery in Glendale, Calif. at 5:00 p.m. on December 16, 1966. No announcements of his funeral were made after it had taken place and only close relatives were in attendance. Walt didn’t like funerals and rarely attended one. During his life, he made it clear that he wished not to have a funeral. His daughter Diane once quoted her father as saying: “When I’m dead I don’t want a funeral. I want people to remember me alive.” Today, Walt’s ashes are interred in a vault at Forest Lawn.
In the months before his death, Mr. Disney was supervising the construction of a new Disneyland in Florida, a ski resort in Sequoia National Forest and the renovation of the 10-year-old Disneyland at Anaheim. His motion-picture studio was turning out six new productions and several television shows and he was spearheading the development of a vast University of the Arts, called Cal Art. Although Mr. Disney held no formal title at Walt Disney Productions, he was in direct charge of the company and was deeply involved in all its operations. Indeed, Mr. Disney was the last of Hollywood’s veteran moviemakers who remained in personal control of a major studio.
Millions of Disney fans, both young and old, were distraught and saddened with his passing. Walt Disney had become the nation’s favorite uncle and his loss was like a death in the family.
Roy O. Disney, Walt Disney’s 74-year-old brother, continued to carry out the Florida project, insisting that the name be changed to Walt Disney World in honor of his younger brother. Perhaps because he was Walt Disney, the original Peter Pan so to speak, people began wondering where his body was and what had really happened to the great imagineer upon his death. The secrecy surrounding his death and the lack of a public funeral sparked rumors Walt Disney had had his body frozen so that one day, after they had found a cure for the terrible disease that took his life, he could come back to life. The truth is, Walt was cremated the day after he died and the family had a small private memorial service in Forest Lawn Cemetery where there is also a grave marker for him. As a footnote to the story, 31 years and one day after Walt’s death, his devoted wife Lillian died of a stroke in 1997.
The rumor that his body was cryogenically frozen persists to this very day — some going so far as saying Walt’s body is held in storage under Disneyland’s Pirates of the Caribbean ride or that his frozen corpse was stored underneath the statue of Walt with Mickey Mouse in front of Disneyworld’s Cinderella’s Castle. In truth, the first instance of cryonic preservation occurred a full year after his death although friend’s claims that Disney was familiar with cryonics and had a strong interest in the science didn’t help quiet those rumors.
For my trivia loving readers who love a happy ending, ponder this Walt Disney anecdote. In the early 1950s, the Disney family hired Thelma Pearl Howard as a housekeeper and nanny. She lived with the Disney’s for years and every year Walt gave her holiday and birthday gifts of Disney stock and told her never to sell it. Thelma never knew much about how many shares she had, how much they were worth, etc. They were just pieces of paper to her. When she died in 1994 at the age of 79, she was living in a small apartment in L.A. on a Disney pension with her mentally handicapped son. Her executors found her Disney stock was worth over $10 million! Her estate left half in trust for her son in a group home and the other half in a charitable trust for children. Thanks Uncle Walt!
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest books are “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View,” “Irvington Haunts. The Tour Guide,” and “The Mystery of the H.H. Holmes Collection.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
