Being diagnosed with cancer is nothing to laugh about. I know I needed to be positive, and laughing lightened the burden of living with cancer many times.
I told this story in one of my first articles, but it shows I could laugh the day after my hysterectomy. The nurses got me up the next morning after my surgery. I thought I'd be able to lay in bed for days and be miserable...not so. It's time to "walk", I couldn't even get out of bed what were they talking about...walking for. Someone told me to hold a pillow over my insision when I had to cough....I didn't plan on coughing either. One of my nurses folded a towel into this little square and taped it together. She put a "smiley" face on it and all these "cute" little things. She told me when I needed to cough hold my "smiley" pillow over my insision so I wouldn't pull out my staples...now I knew I was never going to cough. The floor that I was on is a circle around the nurses station, we have to walk around this circle. Picture this: as each of us slowly...and I mean very slowly inch our way around the hallway. One hand pushing our IV pole, and in the other our "smiley" pillow. Next thing we know someone starts coughing....and coughing. Clutching that dear little "smiley" face over our stomachs and holding on to our IV poles for dear life....hoping not to pop a staple. It may not sound funny now....you had to be there. But laughing made the pain more bearable at the time.
After every chemo I would go home knowing that I would have to eat something....and because I was getting hungry. But what could I eat that would stay down ? One month "Twinkies" were the only thing I could eat for days with out getting sick. I remember laughing at how I would never eat twinkies again...and I haven't.
I would go in on a Tuesday for chemo and go home Wensday. I would always try to eat good on Tuesday because I knew by the next day I'd be throwing up my insides. By noon on Wensday as the food trays were being handed out, I could hear someone say "no spaghetti for Parthun". Spaghetti was always served on Wensdays for lunch and just the smell of it made me sick.... I really never liked spaghetti. It became a funny sort of ritual every month when I was admitted, one of the staff would say "no spaghetti for Parthun".... and boy were they right.
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