He greets me in his wheelchair and with a smile that can’t fit on his face. Cristina Almeida (Badajoz, July 24, 1944), in one of the garden areas of the San José Foundation in Madrid. It has been in operation for more than Five months suffering in silence from the complications of a delicate back operation But she is strong and tough as a rock despite the pain and having celebrated her 80th birthday this summer in a room at the Ramón y Cajal hospital.
Now that she is completing her first week of rehabilitation in San José, we meet to find out what has happened during this time that she has preferred to live in a discreet way and only accompanied by her brothers and closest friends, as well as the caregiver who has become her best support to endure this setback in life.
Like all stories, Cristina’s has a beginning and an end that will soon be resolved, and what better than her own testimony to know what she has experienced. A genius and a character when I ask her if she wants a treat for our date, she only asks me for a bit of semi-cured cheese: “So I can make myself an appetizer when I feel like it.” So with the cheese, a coffee with milk and a bit of bread, she tells me what happened when she returned home after having been at an event back in late April.
Q: Let’s go back to the beginning because it was a real surprise to read in our “Friends and acquaintances” chat that you were in a rehabilitation center to be able to walk again.
C.A: From our group the only one who knew everything was Ines Ballester because we are always in contact, but I did not want to comment on it because at that time I preferred not to have visitors. It all started at the exit of an event in Alcalá de Henares with the Minister of Culture. That day I went with a walker because I was noticing weakness in my legs. When I was returning home with two friends I fell in the street. Then I fell two more times at home and I had to call the police and go to the Ramón y Cajal because I understood that I could not continue like this. That hospital has always been my reference centre since it was created and it even corresponded to me because of my house in Arturo Soria. The traumatologist diagnosed me with a stenosis of the canal that needed surgery. When they opened it they also discovered a hernia that did not appear in the tests. After the operation I recovered well, I began to walk and they discharged me. I spent one day at my sister’s house because after 24 hours I had a high fever and they admitted me with an infection, something that is likely in this type of surgery. I spent almost five months at the Ramón y Cajal until a week ago when they transferred me to the San José Foundation. There have been many treatments, anesthesia, a lot of medication… Obviously, after all those months without walking, I had lost my muscles and couldn’t walk. In less than a week I was back on my feet and I’m very happy. This place is huge and there are many wards for different ailments, but I really enjoy the gardens.
Q: How does a woman with your career learn to deal with these ups and downs in life?
C.A: You learn that you have to know how to stop. My conclusion is that I have given everything I could in life, but not in a spirit of sacrifice, but voluntarily, because they have been wonderful experiences. That is why I have no regrets, but I am aware that now I can no longer contribute what people need and I have decided to stop and dedicate myself to myself.
Q: Do you feel like you have sacrificed a lot of your life?
C.A: If I had to say what I have sacrificed, it would surely be my health because I have not taken much care of myself. But I assure you that I have been happy and I have done everything I wanted: even in the hardest moments, when the murders in Atocha. At that time we knew that something could happen to us but not that they would kill us. I was not there that day because I was in Chile doing a piece on missing women and stolen children during the Pinochet era and I had to call the office every day because I was afraid that something would happen to me and not that my colleagues would be murdered in the office. These are very hard moments that we have been able to overcome thanks to the solidarity and friendship that we all had.
Q: Why didn’t you want to tell what was happening to you?
C.A: If I said it, the hospital would be full of friends, but I needed to be alone to take care of myself. I didn’t even have my phone so I wouldn’t hear all the messages that came in. Now I’ve opened it and I’m starting to use it normally.
Q: Have you cried a lot these past few months?
C.A: I have had some days of depression and tears. I am human. Being seen as brave in other struggles has nothing to do with the pain. I admit that I cannot bear it and that is why I have suffered so much.
Q: We all have limits…
C.A: That’s precisely why I knew I couldn’t do rehabilitation alone. I know my limitations, and I also know what I need when I’m sick.
Q: Does it bother you to think that it might be a burden?
C.A: As for my siblings, I prefer to have a professional caregiver who helps me because I don’t want my family to feel obligated. They can come whenever they want, but without any obligations.
Q: What are you most looking forward to when you recover?
C.A: What I’m most excited about is having the strength in my legs to drive again and to be able to live alone in my house. I also want to travel, go to Galicia to eat some barnacles, spend a few days in a spa, see other places… I turned 80 at Ramón y Cajal on July 24, the day of Santa Cristina, and thanks to being born on that day they didn’t name me Esperanza, which was the day my family was born in, but I still have that celebration pending.
Q: Do you miss your professional life?
C.A: At 80, I think I’ve made my mark. It’s usually men who can’t do anything else but work. I have my life, my money, and I don’t need anything else. I’ve just sold my chalet in Arturo Soria and now I live on rent near my sister. I don’t miss TV or work.
“I have had two husbands and I get along very well with the second one”
Q: Do you want to go back to your home in Ibiza?
C.A: I’m looking forward to that. As soon as I can, I’ll go home because I’m totally alone there and I can do whatever I want and feel totally free because there’s no one there and it doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of August because I’m in a very remote area.
Q: You advocate solitude a lot.
C.A: Solitude enriches me and gives me a part of my life. That’s why I like living alone. I’ve had two husbands and I get along very well with the second one. He often comes to see me and even helps me in my new house because he’s very handy.
Q: When life gives us a hard time like the one you have experienced, we learn other things.
C.A: Right now your vital force is of no use to you because your body and soul are in pain. But I don’t like to cause sadness or pity. Among other things because my disability is temporary and I have a very rich life, so I only hope to recover some strength to continue enjoying it.
Q: Do you think that romantic love is overrated?
C.A: Of course. I had two husbands: the first one, as soon as we got married, told me that he had found another woman and I told him to go with her because I don’t have that feeling of possession. But I increasingly feel that loneliness is the conquest. At 80, love has to be a friendship and complicity, that’s why I have never given up that feeling, but over the years you also see that it’s better to be alone.
Q: Do you feel like talking more about politics?
C.A: For me, politics has been a lifelong commitment. I am a lawyer by profession and people think I don’t have a political party because I have been expelled from all of them, but I have never lost that commitment because it is part of my essence. Obviously, I live it differently now.