You gotta laugh...

Having spent the morning in tears after reading Kris' sister's post, I realized again that the sadness brought on by this disease is both far reaching and always lurking somewhere. While I feel very sobered by this fact, I appreciate even more the times that I can get a good laugh out of life. Grace under pressure is something I have come to admire from any number of the folks I've been sharing my journey with...so here's my story.
One of my chemo buddies was a short but very distinguished looking older European gentleman, who always arrived accompanied by his very sweet little wife. They are both quite chatty and upbeat, and we all enjoyed an easy and far ranging conversation when they joined us.
One morning, luckily, the wife left for a few errands. Mr.M, for the first time, was going to require a transfusion of iron, and was busy making jokes about getting stronger instantly from rusty water, etc.
Much to our horror (he was in the chair next to me), as the infusion began, he looked up at the nurse, said "I'm feeling awfully funny" and proceeded to have a seizure. The staff acted VERY quickly and competetantly, and gave him IV meds to immediately counteract the seizure. We were all just terrified (and I'm a nurse). As Mr M regained consciousness, the doctor was busy reassuring him that he was alright and had an allergic reaction to the iron, but was fine now. We all started breathing again.
As he recovered, Mr M looked around the room at the rest of us, and said in a calm and dignified voice, "Oh my goodness, I thought I was dying! And though it would have been an honor to pass on surrounded by all my dear friends, I'm so happy to see that I am still here with you."
Many happy tears and chuckles in the room from that one. Judy

I had just been released from the hospital after major surgery having my rectum, anus, and female organs removed along with having the entire back half of my vagina rebuilt out of abdominal muscles. The ride home was very emotional as I was not going to have to start "living" and not just existing in the hospital.

My kids were so very obviously excited to have me home. They didn't care what shape I was in so long as I was home.

After surgery your GI tract takes awhile to get readjusted, never mind the fact that mine had been totally rerouted. I was still having diarrhea and a lot of very noisy gas. With a new permanent colostomy I never had forewarning when any action was going to happen therefore had no control in muffling any of the offending noises.

The whole family was gathered in the living room with me as I was now basically living on the couch during recovery. After a particularly loud episode of gas and stools my 9 year old son said, very matter of factly, "I am soooo glad we can't smell that."

It hurt so bad to laugh but laugh I did. And continue to do so whenever I think of it.

MJay

Chrisswife said:

Chris and I were at a family function early on after he ws diagnosed. There was one particular relative who did not know how to relate to us at all. You know what I'm talking about, they mean well but they don't know what to say and are very uncomfortable. Anyway, several of us were in my moms kitchen talking and someone asked me about how many days off Chris had left before he had to go back to work. I gave the answer but my elderly grandma didn't hear me. Here's how it went down:
Grandma - "What was that?"
Well meaning relative (louldly) - "Two more mom. She said Chris has two more."
Of course this came out sounding like "CHRIS HAS TUMOR!" The poor woman was just stricken and we waited until she left the room (barely) before we burst out laughing!

Give me a mo guys--just crawlin back up onto me chair!!!!!lol-lol-lol-lmao!
Here's 2
1/ First time I had a "digital" the specialist put on his glove--liberally applied some lubrication then put one hand on my shoulder and proceded to intoduce afforementioned gloved digit into my "???"-aw hell, my anus. I quipped to him;"thats fine with one hand on me shoulder for support, but you put both hands on me shoulders n I'm gunna deck yah!!"
2/ I happen to smoke--yeah, I know---tsk! tsk!
I kept getting asked by my onc. if I have given it up. Every time I saw him I got the same question.
So, one day I rolled a smoke and held it behind my back as I walked into his consult room. When he asked me again if I was still smoking I promptly turned around whereupon he saw me holding the smoke near my backside(not lit of course)----then I said to him-"I never smoked thru my arse!"
He cracked up lol--but never asked me the question again!

I'm afraid mine is also a 'buttt exam' story. (And possibly only funny to me). It was soon after I was diagnosed (rectal tumour) and I was on that rollercoaster of tests, diagnoses, shock, and more of the same. Like Steve D, I was rapidly becoming overly-familiar with "assuming the posture". But I was in the middle of a CT scan, and somehow I hadn't twigged that the contrast would not only be intravenous but also 'up the butt' contrast. Fine, fine - but, when it came time, my body was simply not cooperating -- giving a very literal meaning to "tight assed". I live overseas, and English is not the first language of the nurses. The nurse yelped at me, rather abruptly "YOU MUST RELAX'. I had just taken a deep breath, prepared to yelp back at her, when suddenly the absurdity of the situation hit me and I just roared - with laughter (relax?!?!?!). When I recovered, I promised her I would do my best. I still smile whenever I hear anyone asking me or anyone else to "relax" for a potentially painful and/or frightening procedure. Hey - our bodies were built for "fight or flight" - it's a lot to ask! Ok - you can ask it - but give us a moment!
I've had many other "bitter sweet" and humorous moments -- but this was the first to leap to mind.
Thanks for getting us rolling on this, Steve D - laughter is so important, and I feel blessed to have enjoyed a lot, both before and after my diagnosis.
Tara (18 months since surgery - yea yea yea)

True story (you know it's gonna be good when it starts out with that...)

I hate apple juice.

After my surgery, I was on a liquid diet for a few days working my way to solid food. They kept bringing me apple juice. I told them I didn't like it and asked if they could just bring me water instead of wasting the juice. (I supposed SOMEbody likes it). Anyway, they kept bringing it.

Now at about this same time, I had my catheter removed. They took constant checks of my urine output to ensure I was producing/voiding well and there were no problems.

Then came lunch... with... (you guessed it) apple juice. I decided to have some fun. I poured the apple juice into the urine specimine cup, shook it up good (gotta have a little foamy on top, eh?), sealed it and proceeded with my green jello and pudding.

The nurse came in to collet my specimine. I mentioned that it appeared a little cloudy as I held it up to the light for her. I opened the top and informed her that it also had an odd aroma as I wafted it beneath m nose. By that point I had her rapt attention as I then let her know that it also - I gulped it down - tasted funny...

And I thought nurses were supposed to have an iron constitution and could handle ANYTHING... well, she didn't handle the thought of me drinking my urine specimine too well BUT, (and here's the important morale of the story boys & girls) I never got apple juice served to me again.

Okay Steve, I told you I would return when my head was back on right (now that is a joke in itself).

When I went in for my butt check exam (you all know that experience, the day your definition of bootie check completely changes), it was at a Medical School which means you never have just one doctor, you have several of those white coats dudes and dudettes around. They were trying to see if my tumor had penetrated the walls of my colon and other amazing things but due to the weirdness of unexpected 90 degree angle turn in my lower colon they couldn't get the camera wand very far. After the 3 of them got frustrated they paged my "spincter management surgeon" (how's that for a title and it is really true). I had never met the surgeon and at the time was expecting surgery at his hands.

He snuck in the room without my knowing (easy to do when you are laying on your side with half a city up your bootie, or so it seems) but then all of a sudden the familiar voices started talking about the "doctor with the educated finger".... I had no idea what they were talking about until the exam was over and I was introduced to my surgeon. I reached out to shake his hand and of course he still had the plastic glove on and all I could say was so that is the educated finger, what does that mean?

He laughed and said that meant I could feel your tumor and the others couldn't. I have since heard that term several times....Now you know what it really means and it has nothing to do with chads or elections!!!!

Lisa P.