Laughter is the best medicine!
A man walks into the lingerie department of Sears and walks up to the woman behind the counter and whispers in embarrassment: “I want to buy a bra for my wife.”
“What type of bra?” asks the clerk.
“Type?” inquires the man. “There is more than one type?”
“Look around,” says the saleslady, and like Vanna White moves her arms in a long sweeping motion showing off a sea of bras in every shape, size, colour and material.
“Actually, Sir, even with all this variety, there are really only three types of bras, “ replies the sales clerk.
Confused the man asks, “Oh, and what are they?”
The saleslady says, “The Catholic type, the Salvation Army type and the Baptist type. Which one do you need?”
Still confused the man asks, “What’s the difference between them?”
The lady responds, “It is all really quite simple. The Catholic type supports the masses, the Salvation Army type lifts up the fallen, and the Baptist type makes mountains out of molehills.”
“Just as Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemene, I too wish to have this “cup” taken from me…”
Of course my meaning was that I would not have to go through this cancer journey at all, but Laurelle started laughing after reading that line.
“Mom, think about what you just wrote,” she said, “have this “cup” taken from you…breast cancer?…cup….get it??”
We rolled on the floor laughing.
I never want to diminish the seriousness of cancer. I don’t make light of the disease at all, however, for me it became a choice of whether I wanted to wallow in self-pity, curl up in a tight ball and give up, which I would have done if I had counted on my own strength to get through the day…or I could use every method of ammunition afforded me by God to fight this terrible disease. One powerful weapon in my arsenal was laughter.