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I nearly died of double bronchial pneumonia at the age of five.

I had asthma when I was a kid, asthma so bad that it would turn into pneumonia and I almost died several times. Nobody knew why back then, but now it's obvious.

I was brought up as a Catholic and went to church every week and took the sacraments. It never really touched the core of my being.

My dad had emphysema and both of my parents had chronic bronchitis and ended up with cancers - all smoking related.

I do have rituals. I'm a fairly superstitious person.

I was very, very sick when I was growing up in Russia. The ambulance constantly came to our house. I had horrible asthma that is easily treated in America, but they didn't even have inhalers back in Russia.

As a child I had terrible asthma.

I went to church when I was younger, but it was never something pushed down my throat or anything, which is a good thing. I found out for myself where I belonged.

I was a sickly child, contracting tuberculosis at the age of five.

I nearly died with the peritonitis, but not the heart attack. The heart attack was like bad indigestion and two weeks later I was back in shouting at people. I was shouting at people during the heart attack. I had it for three days without realising what it was.