If I’m laughing, you can laugh with me.

I make leg jokes, and I make them often. Not because I'm trying to make people uncomfortable, that is just a consequence that I've decided to be okay with. I do it because it helps me laugh more often than I cry. Life is way too serious to miss an opportunity to make light of something that can be so dark. We only get so many good jokes and belly laughs in our lifetime. If we get a chance to review our story when it's all over, I'd like mine to feel like a collection of polaroids with the images blurred from too much giggling to stay still in the frame—just color and light and laughter.

I don't want to pretend it's not real, my limb loss. I have a disability, and I can't wiggle the toes on my right leg because they are made of metal and rubber instead of bone and flesh. So when I make a joke about how I didn't feel a thing when you accidentally stepped on me, it's okay to laugh with me. You don't need to panic and get suddenly quiet, I promise. I've given you an invitation to partake in my lighthearted energy while calling out the elephant in the room. I've figured out that when I'm getting to know someone, if we haven't talked about my leg yet, we are still very much at surface level, and I always feel better once we move past that stage.

There is something so revitalizing about reaching the point in your healing journey where you can use laughter as therapy. I felt it within myself, and I see it happening for others in the limb loss community every day. It happens when you stop feeling sorry for yourself and realize there are no do-overs. You just get this one life, and no matter the circumstances, you have to make it a happy one yourself. Your leg won't grow back, but you can grow as a person to make sure it doesn't stop you from being who you want to be. I have been known to fall in the street and laugh at myself so hard that I could hardly get back up, then suddenly feel embarrassed at the thought of everyone watching, only to find it even more funny when I look around and realize absolutely no one saw it happen. I hope you can laugh like that, too, no matter how many people do or don't see it happen

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Four years after cancer

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Adapting Is Thriving