When my lupus was first diagnosed, I read Norman Cousins’ book, “Anatomy of an Illness,” wherein he recounted dealing with a devastating illness by treating himself to funny movies and the like to make him laugh; you make use of all that the medical community has to offer, but, as the cliche reminds, laughter is awfully good medicine in itself, and he was determined to do the most he personally could to help himself recover.
He went on to add that when anything catastrophically upends your life like that, you need a creative outlet to cope. What that outlet might be is as infinite as humanity itself, but, you do emphatically need a creative outlet.
Reading his book helped propel me back into knitting. He was right about the need for creativity, and right about the laughter.
The last few days, I’ve had three of my kids home, and my nephew and his sweetie visiting (and dearly wishing my oldest and her husband were here to enjoy it all, too); there have been funny stories told, good memories shared, gentle teasings, and much, much laughter.
And all this while I’ve been dealing with a Crohn’s flare. Given that my options for treating Crohn’s are severely limited–steroids don’t touch mine–this is something that can be unsettling to me, to say the least. And yet. There is so much to celebrate around this home, and I’m so glad they’re here right now.
Laughter as an expression of great love: that, that is the best medicine of all. Whether the physical symptoms continue or not, it heals like nothing else can.
