A doctor was called for an emergency at the hospital and didn’t have anyone to leave her three kids with, but suddenly, she saw the garbageman and got an idea. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she returned home.
“Now? Are you sure Dr. Morris is not available?” I asked Nurse Carey on the phone, although I was already changing my clothes and thinking hard.
“No, Dr. Sanders. Dr. Morris is currently driving across state lines trying to get here. You live close by, so I thought I would call. The interns have no idea what they’re doing. I know it’s your day off, but I didn’t know what else to do. Will you be able to come?” Nurse Carey said, trying not to sound worried, but I knew they needed me.
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“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just need to find a babysitter,” I replied and hung up, immediately dialing Vicky, who was the only person who could somewhat handle my three crazy kids.
I’ve been a surgeon for a long time, but I used to have my husband, Peter. My rock. He became a stay-at-home dad when the realities of having three children became too much. But he passed away from a sudden heart attack while I was in the middle of another surgery.
My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be.
Now, I had to constantly find babysitters for the children when unexpected emergencies happened. I couldn’t handle them. I had no patience, and it was silly to think that any babysitter would be able to handle them either. Two babysitters quit after one day of work, and word got around that my kids Johnny, 9, Christie, 7, and Lucy, 3, were menaces.
I mean… they were not wrong. But they didn’t have to put me in this position. Now, only Vicky ever said yes. Usually, I paid through the roof for the local daycare center when I was scheduled regularly at work, but I couldn’t rush them in today. It was already noon on a Friday, and I would feel bad sending them.
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“I’m sorry, Opal. I can’t babysit today. I’m sick and can barely move,” Vicky said when I called. I told her to get some rest and hung up the phone. I hated the staff at the hospital daycare, and they hated me in return. But I was out of ideas. I would have to wrangle with my children and go there.
But suddenly, I heard all the kids yelling, “Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!”
I sighed. They didn’t have an uncle. The local garbageman was so friendly and sweet that they started calling him uncle as soon as they could speak. I had known him for over ten years, and my kids adored him.
Johnny opened the front door, and all my babies went outside to greet him. I might have to call the hospital, I thought. I was never going to get those kids back into the house to be dressed on time.
But I did smile at the sight of them playing with Bob. My kids had turned into devils when their father died. The therapist said it was normal and would pass, but I wasn’t so sure. I felt like a failure. Like my mothering instincts were faulty or something. I didn’t know what to do.
But as I watched the kids hug and ask Uncle Bob to play, I had an idea. “That’s it,” I told myself and ran to Bob.
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“Bob, I have a crazy request. I know you’re busy. But I was wondering if you would babysit my kids for 25 minutes. I have to check something urgent at the hospital, and I have no one else,” I begged, and my kids looked at me with wide eyes filled with happiness.
“Sure, Dr. Sanders. I can watch them for a while,” he replied, nodding and smiling. My children jumped and cheered.
“They’re more than a handful, though. I’m warning you,” I said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry. You go ahead. Your job is important,” he told me, and I ran off, hoping my house would not be entirely destroyed by the time I returned.
The situation took more than 25 minutes, as Dr. Morris got stuck in traffic, and the patient became even more urgent. I was rushed into an operating room, and I couldn’t get away until three hours later. I felt so bad for Bob, who obviously had his own work to finish.
I drove home as quickly as I could. “Bob! Bob! I’m sorry!” I yelled breathlessly as I opened my door, but I froze.
My entire house… wait, was this my house? It couldn’t be. My house was always littered with toys, crayons, paper, and sometimes smears of peanut butter. I know. Gross. Don’t judge me.
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“Dr. Sanders, how was your surgery? Everything alright?” Bob asked as he appeared from the hallway.
“What happened here? My house… is unrecognizable. And why aren’t the kids screaming and running around?” I asked, so confused and shocked.
“Lucy is napping, and Christie and Johnny are in their rooms, reading,” he told me, and I swear, my jaw hit the floor.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
“No, go see.”
I had to go, and my eyes couldn’t believe it either. But Bob had told me the truth. “How did you do this?”
“Oh, Dr. Sanders. I was a single father raising kids once. Mine were ten times worse than these three angels,” Bob laughed. “I taught them to pick up after themselves and narrated them fairy tales. Your kids ate that up. You might want to buy them more books.”
I nodded, starstruck. No one in my life had ever called my kids “angels,” and they had never been interested in the few books I got. “I can’t believe it,” I whispered.
“It was easy. But now I have to go,” Bob said, picking up his work jacket from the back of a chair.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pe
“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry about being late. I’m so embarrassed,” I said, touching my forehead. “I’ll pay you triple for that.”
“No. No. I don’t need money,” Bob shook his head, raising his hands.
“Please. For your time,” I insisted with my stern look. People at the hospital were afraid of that look, so I knew Bob would not be able to reject the money.
“Ok, I’ll treat the kids to something nice,” he laughed. “Goodbye, Dr. Sanders. Have a nice day!”
“Thank you!” I yelled out, exhausted.
***
My kids behaved for the rest of the day, and I almost cried. It was the best day ever.
So, I called Bob and offered him a full-time nanny job, tripling his current salary and adding more health benefits since I had connections at the hospital. He accepted in the end, and I was so thankful that I gave him a Christmas bonus and plane tickets to his family could visit Disneyland in California later that year.
Joan Collins Turns 91: Photos of Her Transforming Appearance through the Years
Her childhood was unconventional as she grew up during the Blitz period. Years later, Joan thought it would be great to do a film about growing up with her sister during this era but her dream hasn’t come to fruition.
Even so, the actress said that as the war continued, she was just a child, unaware of the bombings. She would collect fragments of debris from the streets and store them in her cigar box each evening.
She narrated, “We would draw silly pictures of Hitler. We were evacuated 10 or 12 times. We would be in the tube stations, and people would be playing their harmonicas and singing.”
Despite the chaos, Joan Collins, who deeply loved her Anglican Briton mother, realized that she did not want to live the same life her mom lived. “Mummy was the 1950s housewife, very sweet and very docile,” she explained.
The actress had previously said that her mom, who died at the age of 52, died very young because she never spoke back to her husband.
oan also shared that “My father never held back. I saw him as a figure to look up to more than my mother. I loved her to death but I considered her to be weak and I hated all the clothes she wore.”
The actress’s mother consistently wore girdles, suspenders, stockings, tight bras, underpinnings, and corsets, which Joan disliked.
Joan, who took great care in her appearance, was voted the most beautiful girl in England by a photographers’ association when she was 18. The newspapers asked her dad what he thought about her daughter’s position, he replied, “I’m amazed. She’s a nice-enough-looking girl. Nothing special.”
At this point, Joan had departed from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA), developed a passion for French existentialism, admired the singer Juliette Gréco, and dreamed of becoming a celebrated stage actress.
The focus on her appearance was even more as her film career progressed. Joan disclosed that in Hollywood, she faced daily verbal abuse.
She recounted how the makeup department gave her cruel nicknames, such as “Moonface” due to her baby fat and “Scrawny Legs” because of her thin legs. She remembered the department as a large group of women who were particularly harsh and unkind to her.
In 1955, when Joan was 22, she was cast in the biopic about Evelyn Nesbit “The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing.” Evelyn was considered the most beautiful girl in New York and Joan was to play her.
So, one day, Joan who was still in the Juliette Gréco character and thus had no makeup and was in jeans with scruffy hair, ran into her director Richard Fleischer. Richard told her, “Oh my God, I cannot look at you – you are so ugly. You cannot go around like that – put some makeup on, get your hair done, get a proper dress.”
Just like her career, Joan’s personal life also had its ups and downs. When she was 17, still a virgin, the actress went on a date with actor Maxwell Reed, aged 31. He spiked her rum and coke and raped her.
“I was 17, but I was the equivalent mentally of 12. We did not have sex education,” she noted. Shockingly, Maxwell became the actress’s first husband. When asked why she chose to marry her rapist, she answered, “Because I come from a generation where if you’re going to have sex, you get married.”
However, when Joan learned that Maxwell wanted to give her to older men for $12,710 a night as long as he could watch, she stood up for herself. After four years of marriage, the two divorced.
In her 20s, Joan lived with several men, including Sydney Chaplin and Arthur Loew Jr. She also had an affair with a married man who was eight years her senior. As much as the man was handsome, witty, and fascinating, Joan said the affair was utter hell and she never engaged in one again.
Hollywood men, including directors, also went after Joan. In her autobiography, “Behind the Shoulder Pads,” the actress revealed that she was offered the role of Cleopatra in Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s film on the condition that she got along well with Buddy Adler, the head of Fox, and the chairman of the board.
Joan, who was disgusted by how directors and producers, who were old men, took advantage of young actresses said no as she never wanted to be a part of that. The Cleopatra role was given to Elizabeth Taylor.
In the memoir, Joan also wrote about having an abortion when she got pregnant at 26 with her fiancé, Beatty, a 23-year-old aspiring actor. Beatty convinced Joan to abort the baby because it would derail their career. Years later, she agreed with him, noting that if he had a baby, she would have had to say goodbye to her acting career.
Joan went on to have three kids. She had her first two, Tara and Alexander with her second husband, Anthony Newley. Her last child, Katyana, is with her second husband Ron Kass.
The actress’s third husband was Peter Holm and she is now married to Percy Gibson. Joan announced that she was engaged to Percy in December 2001 and then the pair got married in 2002 at Claridge’s Hotel in London, in front of 175 guests.
The lovebirds, who have been together for over two decades, met when Joan was featured in a touring production of the play “Love Letters” in the US. The Peruvian-born theatre manager also helped Joan edit her novel “Star Quality.”
Many people talked when Joan and Percy Gibson got married because he is 32 years younger than her. Joan was asked to comment on their age difference and she said, “Well, if he dies, he dies.”
In 2023, Joan gushed about her marriage saying that she had found the right man in her current husband, “Oh yes, Percy and I have been married for 21 years and it’s just marvelous.”
Now, Joan is in her 90s but she still has the youthful charm and grace in her presence. When asked if she has had cosmetic procedures done, the actress simply said with a shrug, “If people want to think I’ve had surgery, then…”
Joan added, “You can tell [I haven’t] because I have lines and jowls. When I see women around my age I think: ‘Oh, really? My gosh, I look quite a bit…’ I think I look pretty good!”
The movie star is also needle-phobic and just couldn’t bring herself to have cosmetic work done on her. She attributes her good look, perfect complexion, and youthfulness to staying out of the sun.
She added that her mom taught her to moisturize her skin and use night cream, something she also taught her daughters. Joan’s lovely appearance still amazes her fans.
In April 2024, Joan enjoyed a fun photoshoot for the New York Times Fashion and Style section. She looked radiant in a white cardigan paired with an off-white cap and black trousers.
A fan, amazed by her look, said, “You are simply iconic, dear one, and stunning ♥️♥️.” Another admirer commented, “You always look so beautiful♥️.”
When she turned 90 in 2023, a fan shared a picture of Joan taken on the streets. The actress was in a modest flower dress styled with a white coat, a sun hat, and sunglasses. The fan captioned the post, “Happiest of birthdays to Dame Joan Collins, who turns 90 but easily looks at least 20 years younger.”
At 91, Joan Collins is content with both her personal and professional life. Retirement isn’t on her agenda, as she plans to continue working because of her passion for it.
She acknowledged that performing her one-woman show and staying in a different hotel each night was exhausting, but the enthusiastic audiences and her love for her work made it a rewarding experience.
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