No Good Deed...

As the saying goes, "no good deed goes unpunished," and this is especially true if your good deed is allowing someone to run a periscope up your rear end just to help them add a few new specimens to their polyp collection.

But such was the case yesterday when Mrs. Jarlsberg went in for a colonoscopy, which is usually no big deal apart from the rectal fireworks involved in the "prep" for the procedure. Notice that the key word in that sentence was "usually," which should have been your foreshadowing that things did not go spiffingly for Mrs. J.

Apparently, due to an unusual occurrence that happens "only once or twice a year" according to a medical professional in a crisp white uniform who absolutely, positively wasn't just trying to fend off a lawsuit, while knocked cold for the procedure Mrs. J developed a case of upchuck-itis and thus aspirated nasty body fluids directly into her lungs. Which is why, only hours after returning home, she was having bone-wracking chills and spiking a fever. An eventuality which, according to a piece of paper we'd been given (it proved impossible to actually speak to a human on the doctor's staff), meant you should head to the emergency room with all due haste.

To make an incredibly long story slightly shorter, in the ER she was diagnosed with pneumonia, plugged into various bags of fluid, and checked in to the hospital for a 24 hour observation. And it's worth mentioning before she say anything else that she's doing well, and there's currently no reason to think she won't be coming home to castle Jarlsberg today (Friday). Yay!

Of course, we don't want to make the story so short that we can't pause to complain about how mind-numbingly slow the process of being admitted to the hospital is. Apparently the drill consists of speaking to someone in scrubs and giving them your entire life history and medical history, then telling them why you're in their Emergency Room. Upon completion of this process, a different person takes the place of the first, and asks all the same questions. This repeats approximately five times, which really ceases to be amusing when you're feeling like crap, after which you get to speak to an actual doctor. Albeit one with a nearly indecipherable third world accent.

Among the questions repeatedly asked:

• Are you a smoker? Have you ever smoked? Have you been around smokers?
• Do you prefer to learn by reading or listening? (We swear this is a real question)
• Do you use recreational drugs? (No, silly, we abuse recreational drugs)
• Is there any chance, Mrs. AARP Medicare Insurance, that you're pregnant? (In fairness, the nurse probably only asked this because of your narrator's obvious testosterone-drenched  masculinity.)

Surprisingly, we were not asked whether we heard "Laurel" or "Yanny," although if we had been we would have answered "Laurel, and anyone who says otherwise is full of sh*t."

Soooo, it's been a long and pretty crappy day. Mrs. J will surely be fine (she's the strong one in this family), but all positive thoughts, prayers, and good vibes are much appreciated. As will be any generous cash donations to organizations which oppose butt exploration.

Also, please don't tell her we wrote an entire blog post about her colonoscopy. She'll kill us when she gets home - but we'll die with a relieved smile on our face.

BY THE WAY...

Picture If You Will...

Our title today is a tip of the hat to Rod Serling's wonderful "Twilight Zone," a place that you're in right now owing to the fact that we didn't want to get into politics today (seriously, there's not much fun to be had with the violence in Israel, CIA leakers, or Melania Trump's kidney woes) but we also needed some kind of content for today's post.

And by now, you know what that means (cue creepy "Twilight Zone" music)...Earwigs!

Today we've got another sprinkling of cartoons from years and years ago, back when we were still writing just one punchline for a piece of clipart rather than seeing how many different angles we could come up with before our brain, like a forcibly wrung dish towel, finally drip-drip-dripped to a halt.

So in no particular order, for no particular reason, and with no discernible logic, here they are. Enjoy!

Mother's Day

We're celebrating Mother's Day today (even though it was technically yesterday) with a potpourri of items. First out of the gate, an assortment of motherly cartoons from our good friend Johnny Optimism...

Based solely on these cartoons, you might guess we had an uneven relationship with our own mother - but nothing could be farther from the truth. The woman was a saint and deserves to be canonized; she knocked off at least 3 miracles every day before lunch. She was an artist, an intellect, a person with a wonderful sense of humor, and the warm heart of our family.

All that being said, there is a very special relationship between Mom and Johnny Optimism. And for those who haven't heard it before, we're repeating it for this Mother's Day edition...

___________

In May 2010, I was having lunch with my wife and a good friend (an author) who complained that children's books these days all seemed to need a heavy-handed social message in order to sell. I joked that he should do a book about a terminally ill boy in a wheelchair named "Johnny Optimism."  And  that night, just to take the joke a step farther, I quickly roughed out this book cover and sent it to him:

The next day, only a few days after Mother's Day, my Mom died unexpectedly. And for reasons I can't logically explain, I spent the following weeks expressing my grief by obsessively creating Johnny Optimism cartoons - hundreds of them - trying to somehow rediscover joy, laughter, or just a little relief in the very blackest of circumstances. And it helped me to laugh at life's pain (not at its victims) and realize that we're all like Johnny - just doing our best to cope with the odds heavily stacked against us.

Happily, Lance the dog made it into the strip without blindness or a bad cough. In fact, he's the bestest, most loyalest dog in the whole world and nothing bad will ever happen to him (my daughter made me promise).

I've never really explained Johnny's living arrangements, and in my own mind they've evolved over time. Currently, I see him living in a hospital environment where he's surrounded by other kids with interesting maladies, and inept or downright insane medical caregivers and guests.

During the day, he is mainstreamed at a regular school (which is why the school nurse is always calling to report the disaster du jour).

Early on, Johnny would sometimes mention his parents in the strips - but that element has largely disappeared. It seems to me that by freeing Johnny from traditional family structure and putting him at the mercy of a senseless bureaucracy, he becomes more of a symbol for all of us.

Johnny is near and dear to my heart. He has more courage than I do, he has bigger challenges than I do, and he faces them all with more grace and optimism than I could ever do.

And he serves as a gentle reminder that none of us is truly alone in feeling like the universe sometimes goes out of its way to throw pain and suffering our way...as well as a reminder that it's always okay to laugh, even if we're sometimes just laughing at our own vulnerability. It's quite possibly the strongest thing we can do...and the greatest gift I received from my mother.

__________

AND HERE SHE IS...

Hi, Mom! Looking good!

Her name was Johanne, but everyone called her "Jo." And it was only after I'd turned out literally hundreds of cartoons in her honor that I realized that Johnny Optimism's initials are "Jo."

Whether coincidence or fate, that gave me goosebumps. And still does.