Flavia is one of my best friends and so, reader beware, all objectivity has been removed from this write-up. I met Flavia in a nightclub years ago and remained friends with her—a feat which has otherwise eluded me with the opposite sex. It seemed as though we were fated to become fast friends.

When I got to know Flavia, her mother was dying of colon cancer while I was a few years out of my lymphoma treatments; we had so many hospital stories to share—Flavia’s mother and I even briefly shared the same doctor. Although our conversation revolved more around fashion and jewelry than cancer, we developed an unusual buoyancy around the subject of death. Our long-winded chats about Cancer, Chanel bags and Comedy conjured up a feeling of normalcy, which we both craved.

Flavia had briefly pursued standup comedy in high school, followed by acting in college. It was, as she explains in her interview, at the most difficult time in her life that she turned to comedy. I had always been curious about the mental acclimation from her mother’s cancer ward toCaroline’s comedy club. Leave it to New York City to make both a ten-minute cab ride away.

As Flavia reminds us in her interview, “laughter is the best medicine.” I would add to that, so is stage fright. The immediacy of remembering ones lines and delivering a stellar performance trumps even the best of cancer. Of course, the bottom line is that nothing comes close to the thrill Flavia experiences when she makes someone laugh–anyone–even a perfect stranger.

Flavia often quotes Tennessee Williams who said “I always like to depend on the kindness of strangers.” It was often strangers up for a night of shits and giggles at a comedy club, who got Flavia through some of her toughest days. That and a hefty dose of Joan Rivers’ Fashion Policemarathons.

Flavia’s stand-up career is one the verge of taking off. Stay tuned.