Laughing my butt off at Lupus!

Yesterday, my grand-daughter shared the above cartoon on Facebook. I laughed and laughed and laughed before it occurred to me that some people might very likely find it offensive. Not me, though. You see, I laugh my butt off at Lupus every single day. I can't help it. Some of my struggles are simply hilarious.

For instance, there was my jegging adventure. I thought they might have a slimming effect on my swollen legs. They did. They also went right on, smooth as silk. Unfortunately, trying to remove jeggings is not as easy as getting them on when you have physical limitations. They got stuck around my ankles and would not budge an inch. I had to hop my crippled self to the nearest chair to remove them. That isn't all. I was having a bad hand coordination day too. My fingers were not working at all. I finally managed to work a loose section off each foot, step on it and pull up with my legs as hard as I could to get them off. Even then, it took several tries. No more jeggings for me. What a hoot!

Gardening with Lupus has provided me with many laughs. One day, I fell face first over a garden bed. It hurt like holy hell. I was stunned, to put it mildly. It was the first time I'd ever fallen since being struck with Lupus. I quickly realized that I was not getting up anytime soon, at least without taking a breather. Still, I managed to get a chuckle out of it. You see, I water the garden in the early morning in my nightgown sometimes to save time. So, I was lying there all sprawled out in my nightgown, soaking wet and muddy with the hose running on me. I felt like a crippled mud wrestler. I also couldn't help thinking about that commercial with the elderly women where she has fallen and can't get up. So, I texted that phrase to the boyfriend, explaining my predicament. Of course he expressed concern when he called me back. But as soon as he realized I was OK, we had a great laugh together.

I can't tell you how many times my “Lupus brain” as I call it has given me fits of the giggles. I'm a fairly intelligent person so when one of my old Lupus meds left me hanging in the memory department, I knew it was time to change meds. The final straw came about one day when I asked my grand-daughter the same simple question three times in a row. Her response? “Grandma, your Lupus brain is working overtime again.” Needless to say, I went off the medication that was doing that. But hey, it's all water under the bridge. Can't go back in time and not take it, right? And it was at least good for a chuckle.

With Lupus, I try to find both the humor and the good in every situation. For instance, when I can't sleep at night and spend the day napping, I just say to myself, “Hey, at least it got me out of the housework for a day!” Or when my digestive system “cleans” itself out for a few days in a row, I say, “Hey, I guess I don't have to buy those expensive cleansing herbs!”

You know what's the best thing about laughing at Lupus or myself, though? It's contagious. And if there's one thing my family needs with all our crazy struggles, it's a sense of humor. The other day, for instance, my boyfriend and I were watching the old X-Files TV series. They were studying a line drawing of Big Foot. No details. Just the outline. Without even thinking, my boyfriend blurts out, “Hey, look! It's me, naked!” (He's been trying to lose a few pounds and seriously, he doesn't look like naked Big Foot, really.) We both just burst out laughing. Nobody was offended or embarrassed and he's certainly got a healthy self image but that was funny, dammit!

Folks, it's OK to laugh at our own humanity. It's OK to get a kick out of our personal flaws (Which aren't really flaws, by the way. They're just a part of who we are.) And frankly, if who I am ever becomes a cold bitch with no sense of humor who's afraid to laugh at herself, well, never-mind that thought. Because I would never be that person. That's right. I hope I'm laughing my butt off at Lupus until the day it kills me. And if it doesn't kill me and something else beats it to the punch, well, the irony will have me smiling as I breathe my last breath.