Have you ever found yourself laughing in a totally inappropriate setting for laughter to occur? Like loud laughter with potential snorting? And nothing you try can stop your laughter. With tears streaming. You might manage to stop but then right away have a trigger that starts it up all over again.  The struggle is real.

My mom told me a story about the first time she attended a funeral. She was a young girl, probably 12 or so. It was a somber occasion, of course. I don’t remember the story’s details of who or how or when. But during a very quiet part of the service, Mom got tickled about something that had been said. No one else in attendance was amused, but Mom started laughing hysterically with tears eventually running down her cheeks. And she just couldn’t keep from laughing.  

She was mortified and embarrassed. I think she actually ended up leaving the service, unable to regain her composure. I can imagine her mother (Grandma Reed) probably encouraged that departure. Grandma might have even escorted her out. Grandma’s mortification and embarrassment probably exceeded my mom’s.

Oh happy day.

So I guess laughter isn’t always good medicine, huh?

Speaking of medicine, I have an amusing story for ya. 

Last summer during the night I woke up quite ill.  (hang on, it gets better)  So dizzy I couldn’t sit up, sweating profusely, vomiting non-stop (bear with me please, I promise it gets better). My husband was out of town, and my young grandkids were sleeping in their bedroom across the house from mine. After an hour of persisting symptoms, I managed to grab my phone from bedside table and dial 911.  They sent a team of EMT’s to assess me.

To say I looked less than lovely at this point doesn’t even begin to describe the scene in my bedroom. You can just use your imagination. Sweat. Vomit. And of course, my trademark bedhead hair. Plus, hives with eye swelling. I was a freak show dressed in a hideous nightgown lying in a king sized bed. (Although, honestly, my neighbors have seen me outdoors in my yard looking not a whole lot better than this.)

After doing tests that eliminated heart attack (whew), they told me they needed to check me for signs of stroke. Hand squeezing, leg strength assessment, eye pupils, etc

And then, they looked squarely at my face and instructed me to smile. Which I did my best. They had me repeat that several times, and I kept on smiling as best I could. My hearing seemed to be working quite well as I could hear a faint clicking noise coming from some of their medical equipment.  

So it was “smile” followed by click several times. Finally one of the EMT’s asked me, “Do you know what that clicking noise is?” And I said “No, isn’t it coming from your equipment?”

And then, I suddenly realized what the click was. “Oh my word IT’S MY PHONE!!! Taking our picture. Over and over and over” My phone camera was set to voice activation. Right there on the bed next to me. When the word “Smile” was spoken…..click, a pic.  Automatic.  Photos of 4 EMTs and a freak show caliber sick old woman. 

 Oh happy day.

What did we do next, you ask? We all immediately started laughing hysterically. Laughed and laughed and laughed.  

Good medicine? Yes, yes it was. And the best part of it all? There are no pictures to share with you because my phone was (PRAISE GOD!!) pointed toward the pillow next to me. Hallelujah!

And a good time was had by all.

The end.

(PS: I know you’re going to ask…. no I didn’t have a stroke, nothing major was wrong. Paroxysmal vertigo which was easily remedied by a trip to the physical therapist. Yes!! One visit, bingo, cured. )