Category Archives: Humor

Old Dead Shot Right O and Crushing Self Confidence

One of the hardest parts of chronic illnesses of any is maintaining one’s self-image.  It takes so very little to make us lose what little confidence remains whether it is a comment or a seemingly insignificant failure.  For me, it still comes back to a seemingly simple two-step until one tries to dance the jig.
1) Own it.  There is a saying in project management, take your pain early and take your pain often.  It is true with chronic conditions too.
2) Whenever possible, laugh it off.  Nothing is as belittling as being the subject of laughter.  I like my failures and inability to seem as small (and few, when I dare to dream) as possible.  
Over the weekend, my son was trying to aim a little toy disk launcher at some balloons from a friends baby shower, but he kept missing.  Standing from 5 feet away and missing was making my daughter, A, laugh, which was making O ever more upset.  Looking on, it became apparent he was missing to the right every time.  So I took him aside and told him he needed to stop crying because while his sister should have stopped teasing him when she saw he was upset, it’s hard not to laugh some times.  It was funny after all.  I told him some of the stories from my humor post, and he liked the stories of why I keep a spare pair of boxers in the car.  
Then I told him, he needed to own his missing.  Become the super hero, “Old Dead Shot Right O, he of the purple Mohawk.”  Then take steps to aim to the left and exaggerate the gesture in a grand theatrical way to “compensate.”  He was having fun again because it let him be a ham in a great show for hiss sisters.  The best part though was his shocked face when he actually hit the balloons.

As an adult, it is a lot harder some times to own the situations in which we find ourselves.  Maybe it is because the world for adults defaults to the serious.  We are responsible for so many issues.  With each of our legitimate responsibilities comes a host more for which we feel responsible.  For those serious times when the pressure of the real world makes my MS unsustainable along the current course, I try to remember this post from a few years ago (2005 or 2006) on an MSworld.com forum:
Sometimes who we used to be wasn’t really “us” to begin with. Maybe it was not who we really were so much as a collection of roles we played. The hard worker, the soccer mom, the dad who was a rising star at his job, the great outfielder–all those things.

What we are now is “us” stripped of many of our roles. We define ourselves by what we do, not by what we are. When, suddenly, what we do is not possible any more, we are left with something we do not recognize because it has been covered up by all the roles we play.

Maybe the question is not, “Who am I now?” but “Who am I?” We are a go/do/purchase society–when we can’t go, do, or purchase things we want to be identified by (the Hummer, the newest iPod)–holy cow, what is left? Just us. Unadorned, unembellished us.

It is so hard to accept ourselves that way. Our culture is like those old west movie sets–a big facade on a building that is built like a box behind. If a windstorm blows the facade down, we look at what remains and think–well, that is not very interesting. Where is the sign? The architecture? Where is the fun in a boring, square structure?

In reality, what is behind the facade is all that matters anyway. Denuded of our roles, we are left with what we have always been. Who we were was often great (and often not)–who we are now is where all the good stuff came from to begin with.

We’ve lost a lot, but there it stands before us–the opportunity to remake ourselves.”

-tejokid 
I just hope the stuff behind my façade still brings a few smiles. 

Thank you to all who have read this blog.  I am still shocked to see 10k views.  

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MS Humor

I think being sick requires a certain attitude if one is determined to be happy.  I was told in an MS group for Men, “Until you can laugh and poke fun at yourself for your symptoms, they own you.  They can control how you behave.  When you can laugh about them, it shows you’ve accepted them and are no longer willing to let them drive your life.”  This came from the man who told me to laugh off tracks in the underwear as bad gas and keep a spare pair in the car.  As he said, fart jokes never get old, and the best ones are the ones untold but known to and experienced by all. http://i.imgur.com/1qFs1.jpg
Towards that end, I was trying to think back to some of the humor I’ve found in my MS.  Much of the humor was unknown to me at the time.  I couldn’t see it yet. 
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My step mom says I have the family’s cursed CRS.  CRS in this case stands for “Can’t remember #$%^”
I use my memory gaffes as part of the comedy of MS routine stories I tell to make light of MS and make friends comfortable laughing at MS.  One of my most common stories is from my first Christmas with MS where I got together 3 presents to wrap, tape and paper.
1st present: put present down, cut paper, fold paper, tape – tada! one down two to go.
2nd present: put present down, cut paper, fold paper, ummmm where’s the tape?  I haven’t stood up.  It must be within arms reach.  Why the heck can’t I remember where I put the tape…a 5 min curse fest ensues until boredom with repeating the same curses allows me to realize there was more tape.  So I go and grab another roll to finish.  Tada! Two down.
3rd present:  put present down, cut paper, fold paper, ummmm where’s the tape?  Seriously?  I can’t remember where the heck I put it.  Thankfully this time boredom hits faster so after only 2 minutes I remember there was more tape. Tada all done. 

I saw the tape neatly stacked one on top of the other only the next morning, for the night I just had a block.  I could not remember where I put the  tape down.

Lest one think it only hits for mundane things like tape, I once spent what felt like 5 min trying to remember my wife’s name before a coworker supplied it for me when I said, “You know, the woman with whom I live.” 
(more on next page)
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A few years ago, I learned to always get a tray when I went downstairs to the cafeteria.  In the course of 4 work days, I dropped 5 bowls of oatmeal.  Yes, that’s right. 5.

Something about holding the bowl with one hand made it shake and then get thrown or dropped.  After the first one, I would not let the cafeteria staff clean it up.  I just had them tell me where the mop was… On the fourth day I got over my stubborn streak and said “If I can’t hold this with 2 hands then no more oatmeal.  It might be better for my heart, but it’s crushing my spirit.”

If anyone has ever seen the Never-ending Story, there is a scene where the huge stone giant is looking at his hands saying “Such big strong hands…You would think I could just hold on!”  I wanted to print a picture of him with that caption to put on a tee shirt to wear down to the cafeteria for the laughing workers there. 

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Another funny from life with MS:
For most of the first two years I had MS, I experienced L’Hermites sign.  Honestly I kind of miss the L’hermites (sp?)sign.  It used to make me laugh, especially at the end when it was just a tingly sensation in the groin whenever I looked down.  It happened every time I looked down to pick up after my dogs.  I’d chuckle to myself and wish for that sensation at a more appropriate time than picking up poop.Wink
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On the embarrassing side, I often relate how steroids left me crying watching Independence Day with Will Smith.  Yes, emotional control can totally be taken away via chemical interactions.  I was literally laughing at myself for crying, and I couldn’t stop either one.
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I’ve taken to chuckling at the onlookers wondering why a guy who just fell is getting up to run some more despite cuts and scrapes. I loved the look on one lady’s face when I said, “It’s fine. It’s not like I felt it.”  Truth told I felt some thing.  It wasn’t pain.  It was humor at my MS and her reaction to its symptom.   
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