Oliver: Humor helps smooth edges of life with Alzheimer’s disease

A sense of humor can go a long way while coping with life’s challenges.

Years ago, when I was an intern at the Kansas City Star, I did a story about the link between humor and health, specifically as it relates to treating cancer. Still, the principle applies to just about everything. Laughter is good medicine.

So it’s probably not surprising that in dealing with my husband’s Alzheimer’s disease, Tony and I try to find the humor in this very dark situation.

The progressive neurological disease that is taking away a lot of the man I married thankfully has not stolen Tony’s sense of humor.

One of Tony’s most endearing qualities has always been his ability to laugh in the face of the worst crises. He could be counted on for a one-liner that would ease the tension in a room. His quick wit could find humor just about anywhere.

Since he was a firefighter and a journalist, he was well-versed in the humor that might be a little dark for the rest of the world. As a boss, he used levity to motivate and comfort his employees.

When I was falling for this wonderful guy, we discovered a mutual appreciation for the movie “The Princess Bride,” which is one of the most delightfully funny movies around. We enjoyed the antics of Monty Python, both the movies and the TV show. When I found out he also is a fan of Dr. Seuss, I knew I had found my other half.

Our first date, we watched reruns of Monty Python episodes. For years, we would quote lines from “Monty Python and The Holy Grail” at each other, which invariably would morph into lines from “The Princess Bride.” “Anybody want a peanut?”

We cracked each other up. All it would take was a raised eyebrow from one of us to get the other one laughing. Usually, it was because we’d see something and both find it funny.

If anything, our sense of humor was a bit on the “dry” side, but it usually was witty and gentle. Tony helped me get over my penchant for sarcasm, which too often is cruel and mean-spirited.

As his Alzheimer’s disease has progressed, those wonderful one-liners have disappeared. I miss them more than I can say.

Yet, my Tony retains some semblance of his sense of humor. Occasionally I’ll even get an eyebrow raise. Most times I even can still figure out the inside joke.

When he watches TV with me, he will occasionally find a commercial to be funny. I’ll watch him chuckle to himself or he’ll look at me to see if I’m laughing too.

When we were watching the movie “The Martian” recently, Tony seemed to be able to follow a lot of the one-liners of the character portrayed by Matt Damon. Then again, he also might have been mimicking my laughter. Either way, we both seemed to enjoy it.

Happily, I’ve always been one to make fun of myself in a light-hearted way, particularly when I drop things or make a lot of noise. Tony has always found that to be a source of humor, and he still does.

Although his humor is less high-browed and more toward “The Three Stooges” these days, I’m thankful that it’s still there. Even if the humor involves pratfalls and embarrassing noises.

One problem, though, is that it’s so much harder to tell when Tony is playing around and when he’s not. For instance, he finds throwing his T-shirt at my head to be hilarious. That is, unless he’s unhappy with taking it off and throws it at me to show his displeasure. The facial expression is the same.

I remind myself to just assume that he’s goofing around. If he is, then I’m happy to be in on the joke. If he’s not, well, that becomes abundantly clear.

I’ll be the first to admit that as the years have passed and my caregiving duties have increased, it’s been harder to find the humor.

Yet, I know it’s there. I just have to look around.

Or trip. Because these days, that’s good for a laugh. Just ask Tony.

• Joan Oliver is the former Northwest Herald assistant news editor. She has been associated with the Northwest Herald since 1990. She can be reached at jolivercolumn@gmail.com.