Norman Cousins And Laughter

In 1964 Norman Cousins - professor, author, and editor of the Saturday Review - was diagnosed with a condition known as Anklosing Spondylitis in which the connective tissue in his spine was deteriorating.  He was given a 1 in 500 chance of survival.  He wrote a book about his diagnosis and his recovery - Anatomy of an Illness - in which he tells us that he wanted to play an active part in his treatment.  This alone was a far cry from traditional medical treatment in that day.   The first thing Cousins did was learn as much as he could about his diagnosis and current treatment including the medications he was taking as part of the treatment.  He worked with his doctors to modify his treatment to include large doses of Vitamin C.  Who knows if the Vitamin C helped but he thought it did and feeling that he was participating in and possibly impacting his treatment doubtless did help him at least emotionally.  He then decided to see if laughter might help him more effectively manage his pain and allow him to rest/sleep more comfortably.  He spent hours watching Marx Brothers' movies and any other film or television program that made him laugh.  Within a few weeks of laughter, he returned to his position at the Saturday Review.  That was in 1964.  Norman Cousins died in 1990.
Did the combination of Vitamin C and laughter lengthen the days of Norman Cousins?  Will it lengthen mine or yours or those of my life partner?  Sometimes when life seems so random and chaotic one of the most helpful things we can do is something, anything to regain a sense of order and control.  If laughing is what does it, watch the Marx Brothers or, for me, the movie Airplane.  If meditation does it, meditate.  If visualization does it, visualize.  And until someone proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that it doesn't help, I choose to believe that we can work in partnership with our doctors to beat the odds so seemingly stacked against us.

And There's This Family Favorite

Learning The Healing Power Of Laughter

It really helps.  Keep watching it until you feel better.

Been There Done That

Last fall the family Basset Hound participated in the tail wagging contest at the annual picnic of the Southern California Basset Society.  Long story short, he froze and sat down.  We feel Colin's pain.

Absorbing The Reality of Illness

That first night of hospital admission through the Emergency Room began a period of stunned acceptance during which we both struggled to wrap our minds around the sudden and massive changes in our joined and separate lives.  While in the surreal hospital 'what the hell is happening' world a whole other life lived without us.  It was this life that ultimately - once we knew the number of the room in which my spouse would spend the night - took me home.  The dog hadn't been outside since early afternoon.  It was now almost midnight.  He hadn't eaten his dinner.  He hadn't taken his evening medications.  We had spent hours in the side car of a life that hadn't stopped.
Once home and after the dog had been comforted, fed, medicated, and walked I began what would become a daily ritual and a source of great comfort.  I sent an email to three or four members of our combined family.  That email would grow to a couple dozen while branching off into many sub-lists as family members created their own email updates.  Conversations have ranged from fantasy diagnoses to theological concerns as we offer comfort and strength to each other.
So - first lesson learned? Reach out in any and every way possible because when life seems too chaotic to endure it's essential to know that others are also saying things like, "Shit.  This is so beyond random."
And random it is.  What is not random, though, is the sustaining power of connected and positive energy.  Nurture it now.

I'm The Spouse

"We are legally married in California."
Throughout that first hospitalization I felt compelled to offer this defense, this clarification, to every hospital employee who walked into the room.  After hearing the explanation of my presence not one person even raised an eyebrow.  Nevertheless, I continued to explain.  I was convinced that if I were a man the automatic assumption would have been that my partner - a woman - and I were married.  Seeing two women in the room, I assumed the automatic  explanation was that we were friends or sisters of a sort.  I challenged anyone to question my right to be at the bedside of my spouse.  No one did.
Yet another lesson learned.  And learned with less angst because I had the marriage certificate and the power of attorney for health care in my folder which also contained the yellow legal pad.
Throughout that first hospitalization the only item in that folder utilized was the legal pad.

Illness As A Second Language

Hospital admission took place through the Emergency Room even though we did not consider this an emergency.  In that holding area between life as we knew it and life as it was to become, we began learning our new language with terms like poorly defined, density, dilation, inferior portion, vena cava mm, cm, superior aspect, nodules, and lobes.  I tried to read the expressions of everyone who entered our room - looking for something that communicated, "This is nothing.  You'll both be home before you know it."  I would learn quickly to interpret nothing.
I brought my yellow legal pad into the emergency room and tried to write down every thing anyone said.  I still carry that pad with me every time we visit a doctor, every time we go for another test.  I will continue carrying it with me and writing down names, theories, instructions and all other information because sometimes life is just too much to take in all at once.