Laughter as a sign of hope

My neck is itchy.

Ever since I began my adventures in auto-immune disorders, the skin problems that I thought had disappeared after childhood have resurfaced, and lately they have manifested in an itchy neck.

Looking in the mirror yesterday I was disappointed to notice that my neck was noticably red. How gross and embarassing is that?

In a moment it came to me: NECZEMA. Suddenly the whole thing was funny, and I couldn’t wait to tell people about it.

******************************

Back in the early days of this blog my apartment was broken into. I didn’t have much to steal, but I was very disappointed to lose a few objects that had been dear to me since childhood. I went to the pawn unit to try to recover my class ring, the cross from my mother, my add-a-pearl necklace. No luck.

I checked with a lawyer friend about the difference between robbery, home invasion, all the words we use to describe break-ins. She confirmed my suspicion that I had been BURGLED.

Now I had cause to use an amusing word. That took the edge off.

******************************

In addition to the vomiting which I documented at great length since I developed Crohn’s disease, my other major symptom was what I thought were stomach cramps. As I learned more about my digestive system and my disorder, I discovered that the pain was actually in my intestines. Could it be that I had a…SWOLLEN COLON?

My only consolation when the disease was finally diagnosed was that I could continue using that phrase. It cracks me up.

******************************

Life is hard. It’s a blessing anyway. If there are those who are scandalized by my very Irish tendency to find the funny in everything, I fortunately don’t have them in my life. I pray that this is a sign of hope, that even in the bleakest moments we can find ourselves amused. It doesn’t change the gravity of tragedy or the pain of inconvenience, rather it changes us,  tuning our receptors to joy against all odds.

What makes you laugh?