First, I swung the raincoat over my back in dramatic slow-motion style. Then I focused intently on the right sleeve as I negotiated my right arm down that tunnel of woe. I paused two thirds of the way through to begin the ascent of my left arm. Wriggling left to right, a la MC Hammer, I worked my arms through the sleeves and pumped my shoulders up and down to adjust my body to the garment.

Once snugly into my coat, I tackled the zipper—always a 50-50 probability. Who wins: me or the zipper? After a few moments, I cried “Enough!” and asked my spouse for help. On bad days, my tussle with my coat is maddening. On good days, it makes me laugh. The same goes for my gait, which makes me zig zag on occasion—and my drop foot, which sounds like the clopping hoof of a Clydesdale horse.

Sometimes I feel like an experimental dance choreographer rehearsing my steps. I amble through crowds of people holding out my arms to make room for the invisible bubble surrounding me. Steer clear…thump, thump…I’m approaching! The different ways I employ to navigate the world with myotonic dystrophy often make me smile. And when I think about how outsiders perceive it, I sometimes burst out laughing.

I don’t know who coined “laughter is the best medicine,” but a sense of humor has buoyed me through some tough times. And it continues to be an antidote for annoying but harmless symptoms that amplify the mysteries of the human brain and body.

Here’s how I try to keep my sense of humor and perspective.

1. Identify the symptom. When a new symptom appears, I investigate the source and ask my doctor about it. Is it temporary? A reaction to food or a drug I may have eaten or taken recently? If the symptom can be treated, I follow up with my doctor. If it’s part of the progression of my condition, and it causes no harm, I try to accept it.
   
   
2. Wear odd symptoms as a badge. I own and am proud of my disease-related quirks. I consider myself part of an elite group. And I’m delighted when I’m recognized by strangers with a similar disorder. I was once approached by someone else with myotonic dystrophy who recognized my drop foot. We shared a laugh.
   
   
3.  Turn awkward encounters into teachable moments. If a stranger is rude or stares, I take it as an opportunity to educate. I speak neutrally, not defensively, about how my body maneuvers because of my degenerative condition. And, as often as I can, I use humor to dissipate the person’s fear or discomfort.
   
   
4.  Laugh more. A good laugh always relaxes me. I feel calmer and happier. And when it’s infectious and others join in, it’s transformative.
   
   Leslie Krongold, EdD, lives in Alameda, CA, where she leads support group meetings for the Myotonic Dystrophy Foundation. She also writes a blog and produces a podcast series called Glass Half Full.
   
   

For other tips about handling symptoms that make social situations uncomfortable, check out Ease Awkward Social Situations.