When Christopher Reeve was in the hospital, awaiting a back surgery that had a fifty/fifty chance of killing him, a man burst into his room. He was wearing surgical scrubs, talking in a Russian accent, and said he was there to give a rectal exam. It was Robin Williams; the two men had been roommates together at Juilliard. Later Reeve said of his life-long friend:
“For the first time since the accident, I laughed. My old friend had helped me know that somehow I was going to be okay.”
That’s sort of what Robin Williams did for all of us.