"Disabilities Funny?"

Sure, Why Not?

(c) 1996 an essay by Susan Guziejka



Disabilities can be frustrating, painful, embarrassing and costly; but, humour can definitely enter into the picture. I believe it is seeing the funny side that can help one cope. It has worked for me and that is what I wish to share.


I fall frequently, and have come up with various ways of not hurting myself.


Once, I was with a friend painting a chain link fence with black enamel. We were standing on a rock, that was about three yards long, with sloping sides. Talking and laughing, as we worked, I felt myself begin to fall. Unconsciously, I did the best thing to help myself--I reached out grabbed. Lying on the group, relatively unhurt, I looked up and saw my friend standing over me, staring with his hands on his hips and his mouth wide open. It turned out that it was his left buttock that I had grabbed, to break my fall.


The chain link fence took many days to paint, as it surrounded a one-acre archaeological site. One another of those days, I took an open gallon of paint to start working on the other side of the fence. I had to negotiate some uneven stone steps and, as usual, I felt myself begin to fall. All I could think of was the open can of enamel paint, expecting it to spill all over me. Somehow--even the people watching me couldn't describe it--I made it to the bottom step without one speck of paint having spilled.


As I was sitting on the ground, wondering how I managed to pull this one off, I noticed a group of people staring, open-mouthed, at me. This gathering just happened to be psychics from New York City. Their leader asked me if I fall a lot. When I said "yes", he offered that it is because I am a new soul. Considering the saved the paint, my clean hair and clothes, the psychic's statement and my cuts and scrapes, I couldn't help by laugh until tears rolled down my cheeks.


My grandmother has been influential with her humour. She was profoundly deaf and I used to write her notes, so I wouldn't have to yell. One day, we were having lunch at her little table. I had been doing the running around--setting the plates out, arranging the flowers that I had bought her, and generally making things look pretty. We finally sat down to eat. I was trying to tell Grandmother something, when I realized I had forgotten her notepad. Feeling too lazy to get up to get it, I tried yelling and moving my mouth so she could better read my lips.


Out of frustration, I finally got up to get the notepad. There was just ONE word she couldn't hear or read from my lips, so I wrote it down for her. Grandmother asked me, "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" We laughed so hard we couldn't eat for quite some time. Then, as we continued our meal, we would occasionally catch each other's eye and start to giggle. Grandmother was 90 years old at that time, and she taught me a lesson, in seeing the funny side of situations, that I will NEVER forget.


But, it isn't always easy to see the funny side of life. It takes a willingness to SEE it and that can be hard work. There have been many times I could have made the choice not to see the humour, especially with the progression of my multiple sclerosis. This particular story shows how, with determination, I chose laughter instead of anger.



When I am able, I use my left hand, even though it shakes and wobbles. I believe the more I try to use it, the better and stronger it will be. I was lying on the couch, one evening, and my husband was lying on the floor, as we watched TV together. The remote control was on the coffee table, closest to me. John, my husband, asked me where the "clicker" was. I told him and offered to hand it to him. He replied, "No, I'll get it."

Stubbornly, I picked up the remote and it made its "wobbly" way over to him. I noticed a tightening of his lips, and I instantly felt anger. I was thinking, sarcastically, that it must have cost a whole three seconds for me to hand him the TV remote. As I began to see how absurd that was, I started to laugh and laugh. Of course, John was staring at me and probably thinking that I'd lost my mind. When I could finally speak, I explained my ridiculous momentary angry thoughts. He started to laugh, too. In face, we ended up cuddling and giggling on the couch for the rest of the evening. Seeing the lighter side...the brighter side...the funny side...turned, what could have been an angry evening, into chuckles and cuddles.

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