The Power of Laughter

Over the past year I had the pleasure of working with an elderly, developmentally disabled gentleman. He was immobile, couldn't really speak, or communicate other than by using his eyes and facial expressions. He required twenty-four-hour care, including, cleaning, feeding (through a feeding tube), turning every few hours to avoid bed sores and quite a few medications. I should mention that I have absolutely no medical background...in fact, I find people sort of gross, myself included.

I majored in Liberal Arts so I could tell people I'm a writer (it sounds slightly sexier than 'I'm unemployed') and to avoid at all costs, dealing with bodily fluids. But here was a person who needed assistance and I had to step up and care for him. I was part of the lift team (at all hours of the day and night), I prepared his medications each morning and night and helped keep him clean and happy.

In the beginning, I had so much trouble dealing with my discomfort that I started cracking jokes to pass the time. I named and created a backstory for every single one of his stuffed animals, I named his urinal the “tinkle tanker” and basically tried everything I could to laugh at what was such an awkward and uncomfortable experience for me.

But as time progressed, I fell into the routine and I found that instead of counting the seconds until I could leave, I was telling stories and watching him smile, or look at me like I was crazy and we were enjoying our time together. Finally I found myself having no fear of spending time with him or cleaning up after him and we just became close, that sort of weird intimacy and unconditional care that develops between two people in this situation.

It was humor that bonded us, made me comfortable with him and taught me how to tackle something new and scary. Plus he was so funny. He could give you a look that would crack you up and I am almost positive that no one has better fart-timing than him. Nothing punctuates a deep, life-altering conversation like uninvited flatulence.

He recently passed away, and I find myself missing his presence, his routine that I was so integrally a part of, but mostly I miss the recognition in his eyes, and his occasional smiles at me. While this isn't a particularly funny entry, I wanted to include it simply because without humor, I never would have been able to conquer this fear and develop such a strong relationship. It was laughter that brought us close and kept us friends to the end. 

David in 2010 (Photo credit Alexandra Tobias)