One day I pondered if laughing hard could be harmful. So many other situations done to extremes are declared hazardous, and my thoughts questioned the possibility of damage done by gut-splitting laughter.

The event that brought this to my attention happened one morning. Focused on the computer in our office, my ears picked up screeching and shouting. Joanne and I looked at each other and simultaneously jumped up. We headed for the kitchen, where the cook and helper prepared all the meals for the children in the orphanage. A great battle unfolded before our eyes.

Elena and Gloria, armed with brooms, charged at a well-fed mouse, who dashed toward some boxed groceries. Heather, an intern, stood guard with a can of Bygon insect spray. The two brooms slapped close to the pursued mouse, until he turned toward the handlers and dove under the stove. Not defensively trained, the ladies screamed and leaped back. I grabbed Elena’s broom and poked it under the stove while Joanne blocked the side. The trapped victim flashed his beady eyes as he climbed the propane hose while being showered with insect spray. In the moments of panic, the jumping critter ran over Heather’s feet. She screamed bloody murder with her feet leaping in the air, and off went the mouse behind the washing machine.

By this time, I gave up the broom and grabbed the counter to keep from falling. In tears and laughter, I hung on as the scenario continued.

Elena attacked one side of the machine while Joanne stabbed in the corner from the other side. Surely this would get that bugger. Where else could he go? The mouse jumped toward Joanne, and she set off a series of screams and leaps that would have put the Ferrari prancing stallions to shame. I lost my grip on the counter and squatted on the floor, roaring hilariously. Meanwhile, the chase continued, but every swat from the wooden weapons missed the creature.

The patio close by had a large opening at the top. A TV antenna hung down to floor level, and this provided a way of escape for Mega Mouse. Gloria took one last swing, spinning herself around but missing the target. The intruder made it to the roof. From my perspective, I saw that critter turn his tail to us, swishing it back and forth saying, “Nanananaana,” before he took off for freedom. We’d been out-maneuvered. The scoreboard read: Ladies 0, Mega Mouse 1.

Everyone collapsed, breathing heavily, and reviewed everything with laughter that shook the metal roof. My insides ached from using every muscle in my abdomen. Did I damage anything? I’d never laughed so hard in my life, and because I ached, I questioned if I overdid it.

Doing an investigation on the internet, I learned that laughter might cause pain in gut-splitting situations, but it is actually an antidote for pain. One writer called it the best medicine. According to Wikipedia, “laughter is a physical reaction in humans, consisting typically of rhythmical, often audible contractions of the diaphragm and other parts of the respiratory system.” On another site, I saw that laughter boosts the immune system, triggers the release of endorphins, and protects the heart. We left that day with healthy bodies after the fight with Mega Mouse.

Dear Readers, how many of you have had a gut-splitting laughter story? I invite you to share it with us. We could all use some good medicine.