Kathleen Turner, the celebrated actress famous for her roles in *Body Heat* and *Romancing the Stone*, has recently raised concerns about her health following a public appearance in New York City.
The 70-year-old was seen using a wheelchair and a cane during her outing, which took place in Manhattan. She was dressed casually in a black shirt, black pants, a gray sweater, and black sneakers. Initially, she used a cane as she got out of a vehicle and entered an office building. However, when she left, she was in a wheelchair, leading to worries about her well-being.
This sighting comes after a recent incident where Turner had to leave the stage during a performance of *A Little Night Music* due to feeling unwell. This raised further questions about her health, especially given her long history of serious health issues.
Turner has been candid about her battle with rheumatoid arthritis, an autoimmune disease that affects the joints and can cause severe pain. She was diagnosed during the height of her career in the early 1990s, and the illness has significantly impacted her life.
In earlier interviews, she described the severity of her symptoms while filming the 1994 film *Serial Mom*, explaining that her feet swelled to the point where she couldn’t fit into her shoes. “I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t hold a glass,” she shared. “The only way I could go up and down stairs was on my butt, pushing myself. The pain is very bad because there’s no way to sit, lie, or stand that allows you to escape it.”
Turner noted that while her condition is not life-threatening, it severely diminishes her quality of life. She turned to alcohol as a way to cope with her pain, believing it was a safer option than pain medication. “It was incredibly stupid,” she reflected, realizing later that drinking was taking away precious moments with her family. She eventually checked into rehab in 2002 and now only enjoys a cocktail occasionally.
Despite her chronic pain and the challenges of her condition, Turner has continued to work in Hollywood, albeit with fewer leading roles. She recognizes that she needs to adjust her career to manage her health better.
Turner reflected on the challenges of living with rheumatoid arthritis, but she emphasized her determination to keep going. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t accept it. I am a very stubborn woman,” she said.
She shared that she regained her strength, stating, “I got back to full strength, as full as I would ever be again. They told me I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. Now, that was almost 30 years ago. And I look at what I’ve done in 30 years and I think: ‘Well, go to hell!’”
Despite her ongoing health issues, Turner’s fighting spirit has kept her active in film and theater. However, her recent appearances, along with her need for mobility aids, have led to increased public concern about her health.
Fans are undoubtedly hoping that the beloved actress, who has been open about her health struggles and her past with alcohol abuse, will continue to tackle her challenges with the same resilience and strength she has shown throughout her career.
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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