Tig Notaro

Earlier this week, the comedian Tig Notaro revealed that she had been diagnosed with cancer in both breasts. She did it during her standup act. After being introduced, she came on stage, and said, to the welcoming applause, "Thank you, thank you, I have cancer, thank you, I have cancer, really, thank you."

And the she said, "Tragedy + time = comedy. But I don't have the benefit of time. So I'm just going to tell you the tragedy and know that everything is going to be okay."

And then she told her story. According to another comedian who was at the show, she talked about how she was on both a professional high (a new album, a job writing for television) and personal low (her horrible illness, then her mom suddenly died), and then she was hit with the cancer diagnosis. And when it looked like the silent audience didn't want to hear anymore, she asked if she should go back to her prepared set, and they didn't want her to. So she went on.

Tig Notaro is pretty funny. She tells a story about meeting the singer Taylor Dayne, which I happened to hear on the radio, that had me in stitches. Her storytelling style mirrors her standup style -- understated, sly, ironic -- so it must have been pretty interesting to be in the audience when she broke the news.

I've been kind of turning the story over in my head for a few days, trying to come to some lesson from it. There's certainly something in there about courage -- it must have taken a lot to go onstage and talk about her diagnosis in front of a room full of strangers, especially when it was so new and raw. But I think comedians do that, and find a way to turn their pain into someone else's laughter. Certainly, it's something Notaro has been doing for a while. Still, she's facing her cancer head-on, which is courageous, no matter who does it, or how.

I think there's a lot to be said about laughter, too. If you've read Lympho Bob for a while, you know I'm a huge fan of laughing in cancer's face. Not at cancer -- this is serious business. But near it. With it. In spite of it. She did that, too.

But I think the ultimate lesson, for me, is about sharing. We all handle our cancer in our own way, and whether that means broadcasting it to the world or inviting just a few loved ones to help deal with it, I think the worst thing to do is hold it inside. Someone needs to be told. And while the telling is fraught with potential dangers (people reacting in ways you didn't expect, for example), I'm convinced that holding it in just makes it worse. It did for me.

So I admire Notaro's sharing her story. Especially because it's about breast cancer. For all of the pink ribbons (see my last post), breast cancer still has a spotty history of acceptance. For all the awareness that an "I love boobies" bracelet might bring to prevention, it's just as likely to be worn by a teenage boy. Talking about real experience, real pain, might not be much fun, and it might be fraught with danger, but it brings the real issue out in the open. If some laughs can come with it and make it easier to accept, that's great. Better it be covered in laughter than giggles, or ribbon, or rubber.

Good luck, Tig. And thanks for sharing.