Post by Juana Cookie on Jul 9, 2006 11:42:48 GMT -5
"How do you keep your sense of humor?" I am asked, so often. It actually strikes me funny, that people would think to ask this.
I learned early on, you have two choices for how you react to the bumps in the road. You can either laugh, or you can cry. I have chosen laughter. Sure, sometimes I have moments, when as hard as I try not to, I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. But those are outnumbered by the moments that insist that I be the clown. That beg to hear the sound of laughter. That make me crave seeing other people's smiles.
I have the same "best friend" that I have had since childhood. I think the secret to a long-lasting friendship, are those moments when you are just down-right silly. We have many of those moments. And it is because of them, that I have learned one of the most important lessons in life: The Lesson of the Bullwinkle Slippers.
They were meant to be a joke. Monique gave them to me for Christmas, the year that I was diagnosed with Immune Idiopathic Thrombocytopenia Purpura. (And if you think you have trouble pronouncing it, you should have seen ME trying to learn to SPELL it!) The tag with them said "...and you'll never walk alone...", a line from a song in her favorite musical. Shortly after the New Year, I found out that I was going to have to have my spleen removed. I was determined to wear my new slippers to the hospital. After all, as I keep telling Monique, "If you don't want me to WEAR nice things, don't give them to me!"
I wore my Bullwinkle slippers to the hospital, and I didn't care WHAT people thought! I ended up having to stay in the hospital, longer than planned. I had to go through more "procedures" than planned. Things were not good. But every time I had to leave my room, I made sure that I had my Bullwinkle slippers on. And I was so glad that I did!
When I wore my Bullwinkle slippers, they seemed to make me "accessible". Doctors, Nurses, technicians, other patients HAD to react to me. Let's face it, it isn't every day that you see a woman in her 40's, wearing Bullwinkle slippers in public! And no matter how horrible I felt, these reactions gave me strength. I'd be sitting in a wheelchair, outside of X-ray, waiting my turn, and I would see a doctor coming down the hall looking like he had the weight of the world, on his shoulders. He would see my slippers, and he would smile...sometimes make a comment...and as he continued walking by, his step seemed a little lighter. And I felt better. Every smile they caused, felt warm inside me.
Laughter is not only the best medicine, it is also the best gift. It rewards the person who gives it, as well as those who receive it. It comes in every shape, color and size. It costs nothing to give. It lasts a moment and a lifetime. And sometimes, it has antlers!
I learned early on, you have two choices for how you react to the bumps in the road. You can either laugh, or you can cry. I have chosen laughter. Sure, sometimes I have moments, when as hard as I try not to, I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. But those are outnumbered by the moments that insist that I be the clown. That beg to hear the sound of laughter. That make me crave seeing other people's smiles.
I have the same "best friend" that I have had since childhood. I think the secret to a long-lasting friendship, are those moments when you are just down-right silly. We have many of those moments. And it is because of them, that I have learned one of the most important lessons in life: The Lesson of the Bullwinkle Slippers.
They were meant to be a joke. Monique gave them to me for Christmas, the year that I was diagnosed with Immune Idiopathic Thrombocytopenia Purpura. (And if you think you have trouble pronouncing it, you should have seen ME trying to learn to SPELL it!) The tag with them said "...and you'll never walk alone...", a line from a song in her favorite musical. Shortly after the New Year, I found out that I was going to have to have my spleen removed. I was determined to wear my new slippers to the hospital. After all, as I keep telling Monique, "If you don't want me to WEAR nice things, don't give them to me!"
I wore my Bullwinkle slippers to the hospital, and I didn't care WHAT people thought! I ended up having to stay in the hospital, longer than planned. I had to go through more "procedures" than planned. Things were not good. But every time I had to leave my room, I made sure that I had my Bullwinkle slippers on. And I was so glad that I did!
When I wore my Bullwinkle slippers, they seemed to make me "accessible". Doctors, Nurses, technicians, other patients HAD to react to me. Let's face it, it isn't every day that you see a woman in her 40's, wearing Bullwinkle slippers in public! And no matter how horrible I felt, these reactions gave me strength. I'd be sitting in a wheelchair, outside of X-ray, waiting my turn, and I would see a doctor coming down the hall looking like he had the weight of the world, on his shoulders. He would see my slippers, and he would smile...sometimes make a comment...and as he continued walking by, his step seemed a little lighter. And I felt better. Every smile they caused, felt warm inside me.
Laughter is not only the best medicine, it is also the best gift. It rewards the person who gives it, as well as those who receive it. It comes in every shape, color and size. It costs nothing to give. It lasts a moment and a lifetime. And sometimes, it has antlers!
