Failed Joke

A quick memory and then some thoughts:

My father’s co-worker Michael - also my best friend’s father - and his family are visiting in the living room.  It’s soon after I’ve returned from Magee Hospital and I’m standing in the doorway to the stairs that lead up to my room.  Shirtless, but unashamed, I giggle to those assembled, “Michael, I’m modeling myself after you - I have a gut now, see!”  My belly juts forward, seeking applause, - all I can get from the audience is a forced, politely awkward laugh.


At the moment, the joke seemed appropriate - I was attempting to imitate Michael’s tongue and cheek, self-depreciating humor.  My own reaction to the failed joke was brief - mildly recognizing the failure, perhaps a slight adjustment to future jesting jabs, moving on.  No major repercussions or revelations - in truth, the reason this memory remains so vivid alludes me.

Yet the memory is there, so this documents it and now I will provide reflections. 

The exact thoughts Michael had are unknown to me, and since then Michael has sadly passed on - but contemplating this a decade and a half later, I see it as demonstrating the uncertainty that exists for those a survivor returns to.  Michael, and everyone in his family, has been a close family friend ever since our lives came together, and as I recovered their search for an understanding of my condition while providing emotional and practical assistance was a strong part of the base from which I bloomed again - yet even with this strong support and understanding, the proper reaction to my behaviors seemed unclear.  At first glance, my snide comment, though not intended as such, was rude, and as a young adult I should have known better than to say such crass comments - yet I was clearly trying to model my actions after his - making fun of my own gut.  Michael may have questioned if he should criticize me for what he demonstrates, though he presents jibes in a more tactful manner.  Should my parents intervene and gently reprimand me in front of family friends for an uncouth comment?  Should my ignorance in the situation be presented to so I can learn from my mistakes? 

Questions such as these can arise with any awkward situation, but I believe the element of brain injury adds another confusing factor to the equation - my parents may have wondered, “Does Lethan need to be retaught and drilled on the norms of social acceptability after his injury or will he learn this independently as his brain continues to heal?  If Lethan’s brain is allowed to heal independently, is there a time when this social unawareness must be corrected?  What is this time?”

Whether any of these questions passed through anyone’s mind, I have no idea, and I highly doubt they rose with such clarity in the moment, but it seems clear from my research that confusion such as this is not uncommon.  People don’t know how to respond to a survivor relearning the “rules of society”, and while education can help to provide an understanding and perhaps a patience, i don’t think it can ever become easy.


I don’t have a clean way to complete this entry - my hope was to end on with powerful insight that makes the reader go “Ahhhhh….”, but currently, I’ve got nothing.  I suppose that’s how a discussion about little understood traumatic incidents often needs happen - a recitation of the remembered facts of an event, a reflection upon the questions it raises, and moving on.  To assume there are always answers is to deny the chaotic variances of reality. 

Or maybe you know more about the topic than I do.  The reaction of a support group to a survivor recovering from a trauma is something I’m highly interested in - I would love to hear thoughts and comments, so please share this and leave the comments below.