#397 – Your Funny Bone

Hello, my name is Marianna and I am not a comedian. I’ve come to terms with this. Every comedian needs an audience, and that’s a role I can perform. So, we’re left with a question – if a comedian cracks a joke and no one is there to hear it, is it still funny?

Stress can break your funny bone. Life—and you—become heavily weighted with seriousness. Add in a chronic illness, some, or a lot of pain, and your sense of humour rapidly evaporates. The good news is that bones mend.

Many studies are now proving the value of smiling and laughter. Not only do you breathe deeper when you laugh, providing each cell with oxygen, but the positive emotions you feel can undress your stress. Signals are constantly being sent to the brain from the heart, based upon how you think and feel. Positive thoughts and emotions release a different set of chemicals than do negative ones. Learning to use the power of your heart, can make you feel, well, more light-hearted. It becomes easier to smile and laugh, to find the humour in situations.

On my other blog, Auntie Stress Café, I regularly write a post called Mirthful Monday. These are things that put a smile on my face or make me laugh. This week, I posted a TED talk which explains my rationale for Mirthful Monday.

What are some of the things that put a smile on your face? What makes you laugh so hard that the tears roll down your cheeks? Create a list that you can pull out when times get tough.

Here’s something to get you going. (Be sure to stick it out until the third person comes on – you are not going to believe his laugh!:) )

Only a few more days left. Thanks for moving A Rheumful of Tips into the 11th position of Healthline.com’s Best Health Blog of 2012 contest. It’s a lot to ask, so I really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, appreciate your voting as frequently as you do. The contest ends on Feb. 15th.

#306 – Locked In

I don’t know what it is about me and washroom cubicles. I get trapped in them! Sadly, it’s happened more than once.

The worst experience was in Cuba. We were out for dinner in one of the fine dining restaurants in our resort. Half-way through our meal, I excused myself to go to the washroom, which was entered by going outside and then, downstairs. It was quiet down there. Too quiet.

When it came time to leave the cubicle, I couldn’t. No amount of turning, twisting, cursing or yelling would help. I think I was in there for about twenty-five minutes before a woman finally came to use the facilities. When I explained that I couldn’t get out, she kindly went upstairs and brought back my husband, and hers, for good measure.

The cubicle was the type that you couldn’t crawl under (eeeyou!), nor crawl over (not that I would be able to do that, anyway!).

Finally, after some fancy maneuvering, the two men were able to get me out of the cubicle.

My earlier statement about not knowing how I get trapped in cubicles is not entirely true. I do know. Poor hand function caused by dislocated fingers and poor maintenance on behalf of the facility owners.

This is a plea to all facility managers ensure that the locks on all your washroom cubicles function well. They should be easy to lock and unlock. Please and thank you!

Related Posts:

• Locked Out
• A is for Accessibility.

If She Walks Like a Duck . . .

 I felt a tug on my shirt.

“Teacher, did you poop your pants?” asked the little boy in my kindergarten class.

Although, the surprise may have registered on my face, I waited for what came next, knowing that he had to have a good reason for asking that question.

“Well, you’re walking like this.” He then proceeded to demonstrate my distinctive walk.

He wasn’t done, though. “My brother walks like that when he poops his pants.”

Children are honest. To quote Bill Cosby, they do “. . . say the darndest things!”

You see, I was waiting for a hip replacement, which resulted in a very distinctive way of waddling, er, walking. Although this anecdote is humorous, there is nothing fun or funny about the pain of a hip that needs replacing. Left untreated, the joint deteriorates to the point where it becomes a grinding of bone on bone. It is extremely painful and hard to get relief, whether sitting, standing, sleeping or moving. I am astonished that a hip replacement is considered elective surgery; in my experience, the alternative would be zero quality of life.

I can usually spot a deteriorated hip socket walk. Can you?

Image courtesy of Joanne Wilson.

Laughing . . . at Myself

I often awaken before the alarm goes off.  The alarm clock I have is the type that doesn’t shed any light unless you press down on the Snooze button.

One morning, several weeks ago, I grabbed the alarm, pressed down and saw that it was 7:30.

I got up, started the coffee machine, let  Holly, our dog, out, fed her and filled her water bowl. Then, I checked my email, as well as that day’s Rheumful of Tips post.

“Hmmm, that’s funny,” I mused in my semi-somnolent state, as I peered at the computer with bleary eyes. “I wonder why today’s post isn’t showing up?”

Then, I looked at the time on the computer. 1:40 a.m. “Don’t tell me that the time is broken, too!” I thought to myself.

Off I went  to check the kitchen clock. Well, suffice to say that it was no surprise that Holly had gone back to bed. Which is exactly where I went, once I realized what I had done.

In my half-asleep state, I thought that I had obscured part of the seven when I checked the time. Since I had lots to do that day, I didn’t want to risk getting a late start, so I popped up out of bed—at 1:23 in the morning!

Apart from the fact that it happened in March, it could almost qualify as an April Fool’s Day joke!

Did you know that stress can break your funny bone? It’s a good sign that I am able to laugh at the goofy things I sometimes end up doing. That wasn’t always the case. When you live with a chronic, debilitating illness, there are days, and sometimes weeks, when nary a smile crosses your face. Laughter? Lighten-up? Harrumph!

Laughter is good for you. Not only do you breathe deeper, but you usually feel good when you laugh. It’s through feelings that you transform your stress.

How about you? Do you care to share any of your gaffes? C’mon, you know you want to!