Laughter REALLY is the Best Medicine

I originally uploaded this post a couple of days ago, but I got a very nasty comment from someone (anonymous of course) so I took it off my page.

However, I thought it best to reflect for a couple of days before deciding what to do, as I was very angry and upset.

My decision is this.........it is MY blog about MY life, so whoever you are - if you want a different blog..................

WRITE YOUR OWN AND DON'T CRITICISE MINE!

Before I begin, I genuinely apologise in advance if anyone really should be offended at any perceived lack of respect for such a serious subject.

Please understand that both Liam (my late partner) and myself have had to deal with some really awful events in our lives, both physically and emotionally.

One thing we always had in common was that we invariably resorted to humour as a way of coping with situations that would have otherwise been unbearable.

Some people resort to alcohol, some to drugs, some to other coping mechanisms. We used humour and the power of laughter.

To give an example of how our sometimes black sense of humour, helped us to cope and try to stand back from some things that happen in life, I will tell the following stories........

On the day Liam was to attend his first round of chemotherapy, of all the things he could have worried about, he couldn't decide what to wear.

He almost always wore a sweatshirt or t-shirt. It was a cool day, and as the nursing staff may have needed access to his veins, he finally decided to wear a long sleeved shirt with button cuffs.

"How do I look?" he asked.

I really couldn't have had my brain in gear when I replied, "Drop dead gorgeous!"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth - I wished I cut have cut out my tongue.

Realising the irony in my statement, he looked at me with mock sadness, exaggerating a pouty bottom lip and asked,

"Can I just be 'gorgeous' instead?"

We both fell about laughing!

In the car on the way there, I tried to apologise for being so insensitive.

He just smiled and said, "Don't worry about it, Swamp. It was really funny! I thought you were getting me back for when it was your turn at the Cancer Clinic a couple of years back."

We both started giggling at the memory of it........................

Over the years I have had four lumps in my right breast. None of them were anything sinister, thank goodness.

Obviously, whenever I find one, I go straight to the GPs, followed swiftly by an appointment with the Oncologist. (Three cheers for the National Health Service!)

I had an appointment at the Breast Clinic, (thinly disguised as a portacabin.) Never having been married, Liam wasn't very good at this sort of thing, but under protest he accompanied me.

When we arrived there, I could see that it really unnerved him. He'd not been prepared for seeing some very poorly ladies, some wearing headscarves, waiting for their check-ups.

He looked so uncomfortable, bless him, I began to wish that I'd not pressured him into coming with me.

We both tried to distract ourselves, pretending we were reading magazines. A nurse came out to the Waiting Room carrying one of those huge thermos flasks that dispense hot water, along with tea, coffee, milk, sugar and a plate of biscuits.

"I'm sorry we're running so late, please help yourselves." she announced.

Liam looked relieved, now he had something to do,

"D'you want a cup, Swamp? I'm having one."

"Yes please." I replied.

He made two cups of coffee and brought them back to our seat.

Drinking his coffee, he was smiling, trying very hard to stifle a laugh.

"Come on, out with it!" I said. "Something's tickled your chuckle muscle."

He whispered in my ear, "For a minute, I couldn't remember how much sugar you take. What a good job I didn't ask.......................................

'One lump or two?"

Oh, How I miss that NAUGHTY man!

I welcome your comments, even Mrs Anonymous. But I'm not removing this post and sorry if I offend.