Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Knock, knock...

In general, a very rich day.  Some are full of incident and activity - others unfold as a set of large strokes that paint a simple but forceful picture.

Today I taught a man from Africa about knock-knock jokes.

One of my worries has been several "cardiac events" in response to stress - is it purely emotional or does emotion unmask a condition "appropriate" to my age?.  This led me to visit my doctor's office, give a list of symptoms and submit to an EKG to start the process of diagnosis.

IT takes ten leads, taped to wrists, ankles and chest - the nurse was helped by an assistant - a very tall, very big African man from the Sudan.

The nurse said she was Native - Cree, Blackfoot and Passamquoddy - pretty much a mix across the northern tier of the country - I was just Cherokee.

So as I was being "led" I asked Esa, the assistant "where are you from" - "Africa".

I laughed.  "That doesn't help much.  She's Native and that narrows it down to around 500 different tribes".

Esa smiled and said "the Sudan".  "Zubehata!", I replied and he smiled a really big smile.

"Stay down and don't move during the test".  "No knock knock jokes?".

"No", replied the nurse.  "What is a knock knock?", Esa asked.

We had to act it out for him - which brought added poignancy to the moment I finally asked him (after the test was done) "Knock knock"

"No one is home".

"Stop it, Esa.  Go with me.  Knock knock".  "Who's there?"

"Esa".  "Esa who?"

"Esa the doctor come into the room through the door"

It took a second.  Those wonderful eyes went totally blank.  I thought that knock knock jokes are a test I use to decide if someone is really worth knowing - if they can find joy in puns and language then they get onto my list...

...and Esa made it.  The roar of his laughter and the brightness of his smile suddenly lit the room.  He laughed at the pun and repeated it for us both.  It seemed to get funnier.

These last few weeks have been very stressful - it feels like the tension pushed my nerves to "11" and they haven't learned how to get back to "1".  It felt so good to laugh, to laugh until tears came - not so much the joke but the release from all the tension, the return to joy.

I helped teach a man from Africa about knock knock jokes.

Who knew?