Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

Laugher is the Best medicine...

            One gift I firmly believe that God had graced me with is humor... and laughter.  I know everyone has this gift to some extent, but I find that it is a larger part of who I am.  I have often pegged myself as being the “shy, but funny one.”  I distinctly remember as a child being yelled at by my parents to stop laughing, which only would make me laugh more. I was not your typical girly girl, as hair, make-up, and nails never really appealed to me.  I still enjoyed dressing up, but it just was not a necessity.  In grade school, me and my best of friends, Melissa and Angela, found joy in wearing matching t-shirts that read “normal is boring.” We were definitely not pegged as normal, but we had so much fun.  We frequently had sleep overs where we would stay up late laughing about poop and watching scary movies, only to then torture the one person who fell asleep first. As a girl who found the word poop and fart funny, and then became a nurse dealing frequently with both, it just seems strangely ironic that I would get colon cancer.

When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I thought I might never get to laugh again. Everything was sad, depressing, and heartbreaking. The world caved in, and I could hardly manage to get myself dressed and out of bed.  It wasn’t until the day of my surgery that I was able to find laughter again, and it was wonderful.  It started in the waiting area, bathroom jokes…always a hit, but it seemed to lift my spirits.  It then followed with a worker yelling at Melissa for bringing coffee into the holding area.  She literally had a look of panic and confusion about the possibility of parting with her coffee AND her beloved Turvis tumbler. I could just read her mind “I want to go with Lauren, but I do not want to part with my Turvis.”  Luckily for her, the , worker just wanted her to pour out her coffee…all was right with the world once more.  Lot of laughter ensued about how I was getting surgery and she was panicking about a cup. Once into the holding area, there were more jokes about the glories anti-anxiety medicine, how awesome I looked in a hospital gown, and the size of my incision.  I remember waking up and joking about the pain medicine and how “great” I felt.  Maybe this cancer thing didn’t have to be ALL bad. 

Recovery was a challenge, but there were moments of laughter.  Phil walking me down the hall holding my Foley bag was quite comical. Sayings such as “Babe, do not drop my pee bag,” and Phil responding about how so "hot" it was to be holding it in the first place.  I can only imagine what Phil was thinking as he was holding that bag…what a guy. Probably the most hysterical part of my recovery involved the surgeon walking into my room with a very serious and stern look on his face, then saying “Did you fart yet?" It was all I could do to mutter an answer and not burst out laughing at the thought of my surgeon using this word in such a serious manner. I literally felt like I was six years old again. I mean seriously, the main topic would be if I was going to “break wind” because that meant things were working again.  Again, Phil was quite the trooper, and would constantly give me grief about the how comical the situation could be.  After I got home, I would often use the term, “but I have cancer” to get Phil to do various things for me.  I try not to abuse the situation, but it is funny to see his face. Really, how do you say “no” to that?  It usually involved a conversation such as this, “Honey Lydia has a poopy diaper, I would love to change it, but ya know this darn cancer...” Then Phil will quietly grumble and do as I ask. J Again, I try not to abuse my power, but after everything I’ve been through I think I deserve to have a little fun. 

One thing I am slowly learning is that while nothing about cancer itself is funny, you can manage to find humor in the toughest of situations.  Laughter is such a wonderful release; it really is one of the best medicines. Some of my favorite memories involve laughing until I cried and it hurt.  Cancer is serious, but I’m not.  I take joy in poking fun at Phil, the kids, and even myself. I try not to take myself too serious, so therefore, I will not let Cancer change that. At the end of the day you just have to try to enjoy the ride no matter where it takes you.

"Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. " John 16:19-21