Patients and caregivers can tap into the power of humor, too

I can vividly recall an incident that occurred inside the infusion room one day last November. It was the third hour of a four-hour drip being administered to my mum.

I caught sight of my mum watching the pale, yellow liquid as it flowed into her arm. She took her glance off the drip and gazed at me. Without blinking, she deadpanned: “At the prices these things go for, you’d think they would have at least added some flavor.”

One of the nurses stifled her laughter. I almost choked on the water I was drinking. For the next 12 or so seconds, we were no longer just a caregiver and a patient inside a sterile room. We were two individuals sharing a silly joke.

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A truce with fear

As a caregiver, I’ve come to realize that there is a lot we don’t talk about with our patients and other caregivers. One of those topics that seems to be a no-go is humor.

It’s as if laughter and humor are taboos, forbidden, a sign of disrespect in our roles as caregivers. If a caregiver is seen laughing, it’s as if they are diminishing the severity of what they face every day, and perhaps even mocking what their patients are going through.

Caregivers are supposed to be always vigilant, solemn, and in a state of constant awareness of the stakes involved.

However, it is all right to enjoy humor whenever you find some. This is because when caregivers enjoy humor, they are not being distracted from the fear that is always present. Rather, they are having a temporary truce with it.

In the course of those 10, 13, or 20 seconds that humor lasts, the disease your patient is suffering from didn’t suddenly disappear. However, its monopoly on the room was dismantled. In that moment of laughter, my mum and I were still ourselves, not individuals caged by the power of a disease.

For me, I see humor as a bridge. It has the ability to form a connection between the isolation that is noticeable on the island that is a sickroom and the mainland of normal life.

Humor stretches over the increasing distance between who we used to be and who we are transforming into.

Whenever my mum jokes about her medications, she isn’t making a mockery of her treatment. Rather, she is reclaiming her voice within that treatment.

Whenever I laugh, I’m not dismissing the struggle my mum is going through with myeloma. Rather, I’m meeting her on that bridge, somewhere at the middle point between defiance and despair.

Both my mum and I have learned how to discover humor in the strangest of places. For instance, the way her hospital gown always opens in the back no matter how well it was previously tied. There’s also the ridiculous number of pill bottles that resemble an explosion in a pharmacy. And then there’s the relative who means well when they ask my mum if she has tried “that unique alkaline water” that is being advertised on social media.

Every laugh is a tiny act of rebellion. It seems to be saying to the disease: You have not taken over all that we have. We still own this.

We do not engage in laughter in spite of our fears. We laugh in order to create a temporary clearing within those fears.

Have you ever found yourself laughing at a moment that felt inappropriate? Perhaps it was while you were in a waiting room or by a hospital bed where your patient lay. Or maybe it was when you were explaining yet again your loved one’s illness to a person who means well but lacks understanding.

I want you to know that you are not alone. That laughter is not a sign of betrayal. Rather, it is a bridge.

And on the other side of the bridge, for a short period, you are no longer a caregiver bearing an unimaginable burden. You are just a human being, enjoying a joke with a person you love.

That bridge matters a lot. So walk across it whenever you can.

Note: Rare Cancer News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Rare Cancer News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to rare cancer.