Replying to these posts

A friend asked me this morning if it was ok to reply to some of these posts with a joke.  By all means.

I’m not sure what it is makes me joke in a situation like this.  Is it a British Stiff Upper Lip, or a Northerner’s gallows humour?

Whatever it is, it’s not a new thing for me. I’ve made the same jokes for years about my scoliosis (deformed spine) and my inability to recognise faces (prosopagnosia). Now I’m making them about my cancer, my oesophogial adenocarcinoma.

I’ve honestly tried to think this one through, and I think I have an answer, but I can’t say I can prove it.

I suspect it’s a mixture of three things:

1, I’ve always resented people who (for the best reasons) try to cover up some injury or disability with a nicer word. I’m not talking about avoiding insult words, those are always inexcusable. I’m talking about people who think renaming spinal deformity as spinally challenged will make me feel better about it, or stop it hurting like it is hurting tonight. I’m not spinally challenged, I’ve got a deformed spine. If I’m in  a bad temper, I’m a hunchback (though I suspect I am over-reacting there). I didn’t choose it or ask for it, I do not believe the God I worship inflicted it on me as a punishment, so I see no need to feel guilt for it, or to apologise for it. I live with it, and I think I live pretty successfully, if anyone else has a problem about it, then that’s their problem, not mine.

And that applies to my cancer as well.

2, Illnesses or just differences in others can cause embarrassment. People mean well, but don’t know what to say, so they get uptight. Sometimes they get defensive. That’s regretable, but understandable. it’s part of being human. Humour can cut through embarrassment. It tells the other party that if they make a mistake, then it doesn’t matter. It says we are civilised people who respect each other. If you make a mistake and say something that offends me, then I can courtously explain how and why I was offended. You apologise, and I accept no hurt was intended, and we can both laugh about it.

3, I may not be afraid of dying, but I am afraid of the pain. I’m angry as well, very angry, still angry. This has cost me money, the Canada holiday we’ve had to cancel. It’s costing me work, work I’m not doing and not getting paid for. And despite last week’s news there is still a risk involved. I may still die of this.  This can hurt my family, this has already hurt my family. I want to “rage, rage against the dying of the light“. I’m angry.

And because I’m angry I want to mock the illness. I want to jeer at it, insult it.  I want to say this cancer does not define me. I define me. I want to joke about the cancer to help me to deal with my anger and my grief, and if you are my friend, then I welcome you to join me in mocking this traitorous growth in my body.

Last week my wife was full of a cold, so didn’t come to church with me. I gave her apologies and added, “She didn’t think you’d want some seriously ill person in the service.”  It got a laugh, it took away embarrassment, and it made me feel better. (Though on reflection the theology of excluding the sick from worship is slightly dodgy.)

Anyone know how many cancer specialists it takes to change a lightbulb?

Answer here tomorrow (Monday)