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Tuesday 6 September 2011

God is a Comedian but his audience is afraid to laugh

I was reading an article in the Toronto Globe & Mail in which a PWP spoke of his initial reaction to his diagnosis. He was in denial. I must have missed that stage. How can I deny the obvious? Of course, his diagnosis came when he was in his mid-thirties, young, healthy, strong - denial at that time in life is probably logical. At my age, denial is just a river in Egypt. I have gone from diagnosis to acceptance, without the stress of denying the undeniable.

I have never asked myself, "why me?" or any variation thereof. I have the disease. It is just one of life's little jokes. Joke? you may ask. Yes. Isn't it true that if you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans? God is a jokester and (s)he and I have had a giggle or two about my situation. For example, when my 3 month old granddaughter is upset, she settles down quickly when I hold her. After all, my right hand/arm is a human vibrating bed for her. On the other hand (no pun intended), my right hand is useless when burping her. Once it gets its snare drum, staccato rhythm going, it just won't stop and becomes a form of syncopated child abuse.

Can't you see God chortling on high?

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