The pleasures of finding humor in my life with ALS

“I should be an ALS comedian. I know I could, too — that is, if it weren’t for my darn ALS.” That’s what I tell myself on the days when life’s funny moments come at me fast and furious. It’s another example of how this disease keeps on challenging me.

Here’s what happens: I think I’m pretty good at writing down witty stories, but my in-person delivery is dismal. Whenever I try to tell someone else about my funny moment, my dysarthria slows my tongue. My words are two steps behind what my mind wants to say, while my brain is already at the punchline. I end up melting into a case of giggles, and my listener gives up.

I’ll admit that I’m one of those people who laugh at their own funny stories, so I end up laughing alone. Gee, thanks a lot, ALS!

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A slow bank heist

Nevertheless, I love collecting and sharing the tales of my twists and turns as I live with ALS. Sometimes I encounter these moments when I’m out and about. High on my list is the incident I had while exiting through the automatic door at my local bank branch. I was pushing my rollator and discovered, once the door opened, that it’d been set to swing shut on an unusually short cycle.

Perhaps I dawdled a little too long navigating the bumpy doormat, but suddenly the big glass door swung inward, trapping me and my rollator, both firmly wedged at the midway point out the door. A good Samaritan punched the pad on the wall to open the door and rescued me.

Rather than get mad, I remembered a year before, when this bank had been robbed. I figured the door issue was all part of a plan to tighten security. Everyone is suspicious nowadays. Who knows? I could actually be the bandito Desperado Dagmar, the wild, walker-wielding woman of the West!

I imagined how my robbery would go: “Just put the money in the bag, ma’am, and give me a head-start to pick up speed so I can make it out your dang door!”

Even as I write it out here, the memory still makes me laugh out loud. But imagine if I were to try to speak it. I’d be a puddle of giggles, for sure.

A pirate in our midst

Then there are the times when it’s not a door that causes my mishap, but me.

I was sitting with a friend listening to a rather long presentation at a meeting of our fiber arts club. Soon I found myself struggling to pay attention to the speaker and the endless PowerPoint slides. I casually leaned over and whispered in my friend’s ear, “Are you as bored as I am?” Only I forgot I don’t whisper anymore! My one-tone, single-volume angry pirate voice growled the question loud enough to be heard two rows away. I immediately wished I’d had a virtual computer with a delete or at least an edit button!

On the drive home, my friend and I took turns recounting the embarrassing incident, and we laughed so hard that tears rolled down our faces. That made me feel so much better.

For me, living well with ALS means changing my perspective and having a sense of humor. If I laugh alone, that’s OK; I’m happy I’m still able to laugh.

What are your laugh-out-loud moments? Share them in the comments below. Together, we can help each other learn how to better live with ALS.

Note: ALS News Today 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 ALS News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to ALS.