Cartoons As Medicine by Jo Lee Dibert-Fitko "There's a cartoon in there somewhere!" This is my usual response to family scenarios, relationships, work, health issues and a general "day in the life" of any of us. Have I always responded this way? Definitely not. Cartooning was never anything I had planned to do. It was nothing I would have labeled an alternative career. It wasn't even a skill or talent I was aware I possessed, much less worked on developing. Of course, I hadn't planned on getting ill either. Nor had I planned on ending up in the hospital, going through endless hours and days of testing and lab work, anxiously awaiting results. When all the doctors reached a consensus on the diagnosis (spinal meningitis and a pituitary tumor), it was a relief of sorts. Medically categorized, I knew I could deal with the implications and complications presented to me. What I couldn't predict was the extreme fatigue, dizziness, visual disturbances and debilitating pain. I decided a positive attitude and strong faith were going to have to be my illness-conquering tools. I also discovered the medicinal power of humor. I began smiling at staff and patients alike. In fact, I started smiling about everything. And I laughed. "You need a spinal tap." Smile. "Time for some more lab work." Smile. "Just one more MRI." Smile. I was sure my mind-over-weakened-matter approach was going to be effective, although my developing sense of humor was met with more than one suspicious look. One doctor went so far as to note on my medical chart that she questioned the severity of my pain, as "Jo Lee was smiling during examination." With that kind of review (and 13 years as a professional social worker), I anticipated they would send me upstairs for a psychological evaluation. Instead, I was wheeled down the hall for an electroencephalogram (EEG). All those wires glued to someone's head would, in most patients, induce fear, anxiety or at least a visual flashback of Boris Karloff playing Frankenstein. For me, it triggered my first cartoon. When I presented my drawing to the technicians, they laughed out loud and taped the cartoon to the wall. It was all the incentive I needed. My endocrinologist witnessed my new addiction to white copy paper and black marking pens. He decided my cartoons deserved a special place in my medical records. Once released from the hospital. I self-prescribed cartooning as a tool for healing and recovery. I found immense enjoyment in this new venture and noticed a behavioral change in myself. As I returned to my corporate day job, I found that I couldn't wait to get home in the evening to my drawing board. I decided to pursue cartooning and an old passion of mine -- writing -- as a combined new career. Single and self-supporting at the time, I knew it would require determination and a lot of hard work. Some people encouraged me. "Go for it! Now is the time!" However, most people said, "Are you crazy? You can't do that for a living! It has nothing to do with your degree. You aren't formally trained. You'll have to abandon those restrictive suits, uncomfortable shoes, mundane meetings and your beeper!" I would smile and offer a laugh in response. "I LOVE what I'm doing!" That usually finalized the inquisition. I also knew that when God bopped me on (and in) my head with this cartooning gift, it was for a reason. As I made the transition, I loved how I felt. I loved how my physical health was improving by leaps and bounds. I loved how my sense of humor spilled over into other facets of my life. And the best part? I loved the way sharing my art and poetry and stories brought a lift and smile to others. It's been 10 years since I was hospitalized. I've been published widely in the U.S. and Europe and recruited as a speaker. My first cartoon/coloring book eagerly went to press, and there is more on the way. And yes, there's still an itsy bitsy spot in the pituitary gland where the tumor used to be. I know it's a temporary boarder. The last time I completed a medical form requesting any pertinent past or present medical conditions, I filled in the blank with Endocrine Microadenoma, i.e., Pituitary Tumor: Cartoon Storage Area. A sense of humor has helped get me to this point. It's going to accompany me wherever I'm headed and whatever I do. Not one day passes in which I don't laugh or find something humorous about myself, or life, or work, or my family...and yes, even about my health. What makes you laugh or provide you humor is as individual as you are. The good news is that the options are limitless. I encourage you to make friends with humor and laughter. You'll notice changes in your physical, emotional and spiritual health. Feelings of optimism, hope, patience, spontaneity, energy, and improved self-esteem will move right in. You'll discover life's best medicine can indeed begin with a smile. Jo Lee Dibert- Fitko, cartoonist, social worker and owner of Dibert-Fitko Diversions, is receiving national recognition for her adult cartoon/coloring book, ...You Never Asked For This! A graduate of the University of Michigan, she has been a featured speaker in both Michigan and Illinois. She is a member of the Association for Applied and Therapeutic Humor, The Flint (Mich.) Institute of Music, Flint Festival Chorus, and the Pituitary Disorders Support and Education Network of Michigan. She may be contacted at (989) 652-3174 or e-mail GF942@aol.com. Her book is available for purchase from www.dibertdiversions.com or BuyBooks on the Web.com. Call toll-free 1 (877) BUY BOOK. Copyright © 2002 Jo Lee Dibert-Fitko |
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