I remember a time when I thought people falling (under most circumstances) the most hilarious fodder imaginable. Cut to 1993, when my Dutchie husband was too cheap to turn on the hall light: this would serve to bite him in the proverbial ass one evening, as I was sitting on the couch, enjoying an ice cream sandwich. Yes, I remember what I was eating that night, twenty some years ago. I remember because I have told this story ad nauseum; to anyone and everyone who might lend an ear. The following story is true, and no names have been changed as there are no innocent parties involved.
“Huh, Ahhhhhhhhhhh, REEOWWWWW!!!!!!” And then, the sound of my husband riding my cat Tajia down the stairs. I didn’t know this at that very minute, but the mere vocals were enough to have me laying on the floor, laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. That’s what happens when a black cat lays, in waiting, while you attempt to navigate a darkened hallway and old, farmhouse stairs.
“I believe Tajia thinks I tried to shove her up my ass,” were my husband’s exact words…..and not only was he bruised beyond recognition, he walked like a duck for two weeks. Okay, maybe I am still laughing………
The point of this story is this: on my second round of Lyme, I know what’s coming: a few months after you think you are on the road to recovery, the neurological aspects of the disease kick in. Two years ago, unsuspectedly, I was hit with a series of falls so hideous, so pernicious, so……….so embarrassing. I would be standing in an upright position and suddenly be down, eating dirt in the driveway. I fell everywhere I went, church, the grocery store, hiking, out to eat with friends. Of course no one laughed, and that is when it occurred to me-falling is no joke. But this time? Ha! This time I am prepared: I hold on to the chair in front of me while dancing in church. I am so practiced in wiping out, that I know the “drop and roll,” I have it down to a science.
So the joke’s on you Lyme Disease………looks like I will, indeed, have the last laugh.