Laughter is good medicine, especially when you're feeling blue, or after abdominal surgery, or when you've stubbed all your toes. Two things happened this week which seemed funny to me.
First, we had icy snow last week and I dreaded the old-style brick sidewalk I have to traverse to get to the office. There are two downspouts that flood the bricks in a couple of patches. Wouldn't be so bad if there was a fence or something to hold onto, but there isn't. One of our volunteers stopped by and we started chatting about how treacherous those patches are in hard winter temperatures.
"I use those cleats that you attach to the bottom of your shoes," she said, "and never have trouble with ice. They're for sale at Sell's Hardware, but I'm sure there are other places you can find them."
That afternoon, I bought a pair. I was determined to try them out on the ice-covered alley between my house and Mike's (the Butcher from Pittsburgh), which is worse than the bricks at work. I sat on the sofa, attached them to my sneakers and tested them on the wood floor. I sounded like a lineman leaving the locker room. Clack, clack, clack.
Then, I stepped onto the linoleum tiles in the kitchen...and promptly fell flat on my butt.
Secondly, this afternoon I had to visit the doctor (might be developing pneumonia again.) Lungs were tight, hurt to breathe..the usual for this time of year. I swear, I think I'm allergic to snow.
Doctor was concerned about some wheezing and rattling in my left lung, and ordered a nebulizer treatment with some medicines meant to reduce the inflammation and open up the passages. She was going to listen to the lungs again after the treatment.
I'm sitting there with the mouthpiece clenched between my teeth, breathing in and out. (In with the good air, out with the bad...what movie is that from?) After a couple of minutes, boredom was beginning to set in, so I started looking at the contents of the room. Someone put the calendar a month ahead; there was a saccharin-sweet picture of a puppy in a frame decorated by a child - I think a kid did it. My eyes followed the walls around to the one directly opposite my chair, which held a delicately lettered platitude. After I read it, I laughed so hard I started coughing, which brought the doctor in.
"What's wrong?"
I pulled on the mouthpiece, sucking in more of the mist that is supposed to help, and pointed to the platitude on the opposite wall. She read it aloud.
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away."
Sometimes, the best thing to do is laugh.
First, we had icy snow last week and I dreaded the old-style brick sidewalk I have to traverse to get to the office. There are two downspouts that flood the bricks in a couple of patches. Wouldn't be so bad if there was a fence or something to hold onto, but there isn't. One of our volunteers stopped by and we started chatting about how treacherous those patches are in hard winter temperatures.
"I use those cleats that you attach to the bottom of your shoes," she said, "and never have trouble with ice. They're for sale at Sell's Hardware, but I'm sure there are other places you can find them."
That afternoon, I bought a pair. I was determined to try them out on the ice-covered alley between my house and Mike's (the Butcher from Pittsburgh), which is worse than the bricks at work. I sat on the sofa, attached them to my sneakers and tested them on the wood floor. I sounded like a lineman leaving the locker room. Clack, clack, clack.
Then, I stepped onto the linoleum tiles in the kitchen...and promptly fell flat on my butt.
Secondly, this afternoon I had to visit the doctor (might be developing pneumonia again.) Lungs were tight, hurt to breathe..the usual for this time of year. I swear, I think I'm allergic to snow.
Doctor was concerned about some wheezing and rattling in my left lung, and ordered a nebulizer treatment with some medicines meant to reduce the inflammation and open up the passages. She was going to listen to the lungs again after the treatment.
I'm sitting there with the mouthpiece clenched between my teeth, breathing in and out. (In with the good air, out with the bad...what movie is that from?) After a couple of minutes, boredom was beginning to set in, so I started looking at the contents of the room. Someone put the calendar a month ahead; there was a saccharin-sweet picture of a puppy in a frame decorated by a child - I think a kid did it. My eyes followed the walls around to the one directly opposite my chair, which held a delicately lettered platitude. After I read it, I laughed so hard I started coughing, which brought the doctor in.
"What's wrong?"
I pulled on the mouthpiece, sucking in more of the mist that is supposed to help, and pointed to the platitude on the opposite wall. She read it aloud.
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away."
Sometimes, the best thing to do is laugh.
13 comments:
God definitely has a sense of humour.
Most times, the only thing to do is laugh. Actually, I can't think of a time that it's a bad thing, although many folks would disagree with me. But then, I have a pretty black sense of humor and the absurd.
Hope your lungs calm down.
Yak Trax is what I have, and yes, they are worse than ice when you try to walk on tile or hard floors. But they are terrific on ice and snow.
Ha! And your poor butt!
I thought I was going to have to take you to task, to smack you (quite lightly) on the wrist and remind you about the immutabilities of the universe. But all turned out well.
Consider the cleats: how do they work? By being harder than the slippy stuff and digging into it, thus creating a temporary physical link. Had the lino been old and worn this might have happened, but lino has a hardish surface capable of resisting the cleats and thus your ass and the floor were always destined to meet. I will just add, parenthetically as it were, that had the lino been set an an angle from the horizontal (say 45 deg) the cleats might have engaged. But it is difficult to imagine such a kitchen floor where the ass/floor tendency would have been greatly enhanced were you to walk across (Up and down?) it in your socks. But someone who has mastered plumbing as you have has the techno-wherewithal to have worked this out. For shame.
However we come to the good bit. Your laughing was only a symptom of what counts. What's encouraging is that although ill you hadn't lost your critical faculties; despite pulmonary affliction your literary crap detector was alive and well. I for one say hurrah. (Little titbit: Criticism is prejudice made plausible. H. L. Mencken. In fact if you can stand the danger to your lungs why not borrow some Mencken from the library - America's greatest cynic.)
Yes, She does...a wicked sense of humor!
Z, one of the good things I got from my mother was her ability to find humor in the outrageous and the absurd. I would say you and she shared similar outlook, that there is humor in almost every situation.
(Lungs are better this morning - started a Z-Pack last night.)
Lisa, my poor butt is so well padded that I mostly bounced when I hit the floor.
BB:
I got cocky after walking across the wood floor, and didn't consider that I might need a different tack with the lino. I had that one coming, which made it all the funnier.
The great thing about my doctor is she saw the dark humor in the platitude, too, and had a good laugh herself. Made me feel instantly better; mood-wise, anyway.
some great images here as well as the sound effects; the clack clack clack was wonderful .... and the fall on the butt was no doubt painful, but you present it -- and the breathing episode--in such a slapstick fashion, it's hard not to smile.
good for you!!
i'm glad you lived to tell the tales... :) been there with the 'sucker', that's my word for it...just had the stuff in november-again-take care of yourself in this hellish weather and try to stay off butt. my advice. :) xx
Thanks for the chuckles, even at your butt's expense! You tell good stories, dear Crow. Get better quick and stay warm.
I have tried those spikey things. They are fine on ice but tedious on ordinary surfaces. I didn't fall over, but I sympathise. I would have laughed too, but not at you. Laughter is healthy. Keeping laughing, Martha.
We have a couple of pairs of ice cleats but never once remembered to try them. Now I'll remember that if I do I won't wear them across the kitchen floor :-)
That was a great story about the doctor's office too.
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