When You Get Cancer, You Get to Tell Bad Jokes

Sense of humor as superpower

I got a call from one of my best friends. I have breast cancer, she said.

Are you kidding? I said.

She’s usually kidding. She’s my funniest friend. We often talk about writing a comedy together, a Judd Apatow for women.

I don’t know anyone who makes me laugh harder and it’s not just me. She makes everyone laugh that hard. She should be on stage making people spit out their drinks. Her biography on how she became Amy Schumer should be on my bedside table. Gilder Radner would have had her killed.

No, She said. I’m not kidding. I have cancer.

Shit. I said. What can I do?

Nothing. I don’t know yet.

We had to get off the phone because she was going out with old friends. Later, she started texting me.

I have to get this off my chest, she wrote.

I’m calling cause we’re bosom buddies.

Soon this will be just a trip down mammary lane.

I’m turning lemons into melons. In my boob’s case, more like acorns.

I texted back. These are great. Can I use them? I have a publication about breasts called Breast Stories.

Are you kidding? she said.

No, I said, I’ll keep you abreast of how it’s doing.

Tit for tat, she said.

Then she called me.

What do you get a blind deaf paraplegic for their birthday? She asked.

I don’t know. What?

“Cancer,” she said, hysterically.

Oh my God, I said, laughing.

I can tell jokes like that now, she said, because I have cancer. You can’t tell that joke. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of. Telling jokes I normally wouldn’t be allowed to tell.

Can I laugh at the jokes without feeling like an asshole? I asked.

Of course, she said. It’s one of the perks of having a friend with cancer. I’m taking this opportunity to tell every cancer joke.

How’s Paul taking it? I asked about her new husband. She’s a newlywed.

At first, he thought I wasn’t accepting it, with all these jokes — not taking it seriously. He’s finally accepted this is how we’re getting through this.

When did you find out? I asked.

Twenty minutes ago, she said.

Fast learner, I said.

I know, she said. That’s why I married him.

I also use humor to cope so I know where she’s coming from. Not everyone likes that. They think life should be taken seriously. They think it’s avoidance. They’re afraid jokes are a symptom of denial. Sadness, loss, depression, and mourning are the only reasonable response to sickness, tragedy, and fear.

What they don’t realize is when we find the punchline, we’ve never been closer to acceptance. It’s our response to sickness, tragedy, and fear. It’s our superpower. It’s one of our God-given gifts.

I love this woman. She’s one of the friends who carries my heart. She is one of the people who I would stop the world for. Nothing is more important than she is.

Hard times are coming, but she’s armed herself with laughter. It’s her story and we get to be in it.

Thanks to Betsy Denson for her editorial chops.

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