"My friend was just diagnosed with cancer; what do I do?!?" (Post #4)

   Rollercoaster at Legoland in Germany, September 2009. 
     (Donovan and Marigan are so little!) 

Life with a cancer patient is kinda' like this. 

Many, many, many moons ago, I think I was probably around 12, I read an article in the Reader's Digest that stuck with me. It was written by a woman who described the reactions of people around her when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her insights stuck with me (35+ years later!) and helped me shape my own responses when bad news is shared with me. However, I've come to realize that just like every individual's journey is different, so is their desired response when sharing bad news. So this is my list of do's and don'ts, to be taken with about a 1/4 teaspoon salt. 😊

My favourite response was from a family member who shrugged and said, "I don't have the words to say how sorry I am that you're going through this; just know that we're praying for you."  I get that. I can appreciate that. And I don't think there are any words, which does not mean that you shouldn't say anything! But it's okay to just shrug, squeeze their arm and tell them you'll pray. And if that's too much? If just seeing them makes you feel wobbly? That's okay too. I personally do not like to cry in public, and to my shame, I'm guilty of literally running the other way from emotional situations. Trust me, the last thing I want is to make someone feel guilty or pressured into giving a response.

I'd like to clarify that a verbal response and a written response are very, very different. When I started this blog, I had no idea who would read it. My only desire was to share information and hopefully, potentially help someone. The response has been overwhelming - you guys are amazing! Your comments and promises of prayers and support are a balm to my soul. But a written response, via social media, an email, or a card, allows the recipient to react in private, at a time of their own choosing. I have a card from a friend lying beside me right now.  I may or may not open it today; regulating your emotional reserves becomes more of a thing when you're going through a health crisis. 

So I guess telling you that not having any words is less than helpful, huh? Well, let me just share some of the responses that touched my heart:

• Demonstrate authentic emotion - "I was saddened..." This lets me know that you share in my experience. 
• Share something inspirational - whether it's a quotation, a Bible verse, or a link to a song, knowing that you took the time to formulate a response makes me feel like you're sharing my burden.
• Post the praying hands emoji - sometimes you have no written words, and that's okay. As a woman of faith, your prayers mean the world to me.
• Share survival stories of friends and family who are doing well post-treatment. 
• Keep talking when you see the flood waters rising! Okay, so this is obviously a personal request and probably doesn't apply to most, but as someone who would rather not bawl in public, please keep chatting when you see that the floodgates are about to blow! 😭 The worst thing you can do is say, "Oh, Heather..." and hug me.  Seriously. I will drown you. You have been warned. 🌊

Now, in case you were wondering, here are a few responses that are less than helpful:

• "This must be so hard on your family!" Um...yeah, I hope so! Because if it wasn't it would mean that they don't care!! But, please, as a wife and mom, this is the hardest part of the whole experience, without question, hands down, no contest, etc... 😑 I will be fine. I'm "taking a year off" and then I plan to be back with my usual vim and vigor, but seeing my family hurting just guts me. So if you are so indelicate as to make this comment, you'd better have a towel handy as an entire box of Kleenex is not going to cut it!
• "I know of someone who had the same cancer - they're dead now."  Seriously?!? You're not joking?? Expect me to burst out laughing, which is completely inappropriate, but *News Flash* so is this comment. And yes, this happened to me. 😳

Okay, so words are all fine and good, but you want to DO something. How kind, no seriously. You don't need to, and your willingness to help is so appreciated! Please realize that the patient may not have a clue as to what they need or will need. There is a whole grieving process that must be endured before the planning phase begins, so be patient as they try to figure out what life might look like. (There are also many variables that will influence the outcome, so nothing is carved in stone.) So where to start, especially if the recipient is clueless? (🙋)

• You may need to use your best reconnaissance skills.  Does the patient need help with childcare or taxiing children? Thankfully mine are older and will be taxiing me around! (Turn about is fair play and all that...😁) The best assistance is when people identify a stressor (needs childcare) and offer relief (taxiing children). Now, some people are more private than others and you may need to ask other family members, rather than the actual patient, to get a straight answer. (Sorry!  I hate asking for help!)
• Don't assume you know what the person needs...unless it's food. Everyone needs food. 😋 Particularly if you know the dietary restrictions of the family, food is always a good idea, especially if the meal can be frozen for later.  If supplying a homecooked meal won't work for you, that's okay! There are always gift cards for takeout. I still remember someone bringing Swiss Chalet to our home after one of our kids was born. (And no, I don't remember which kid it was... I also don't recommend having 3 kids in 3.5 years!)
• Please, please, do not offer to clean my house. I'm pretty sure I just heard my grandma gasp in horror at the mere notion...and she's been with the Lord for 12 years! 😊 

If there is one thought that I can leave with you, it's this: understand that cancer makes people selfish, well, it did me. I find it difficult to concentrate on anything other than preparing for my surgery and subsequent treatment! Since a cancer diagnosis is not something anyone "plans" into their daytimer, it is not unusual to feel a desperate need to control as much of your life as possible. For me, this looks like nesting. I'm rather enjoying it, actually. I recall being very downhearted when nesting while pregnant with my youngest, thinking that my house would never ever be as clean/organized as it was then. I was, unfortunately, quite correct. But I'm making up for lost time now! (I recently cleared out a cupboard and found size 6 boys' skates. My youngest is 20. It's been a while since those were used! 😬) But this might also mean that anything else, work, church, friends, etc., is merely a distraction. Please, be patient. We'll resurface from the morass of cancer soon, and then we'll remember your kindness with gratitude.  

I think we may actually get sick of Mexican Lasagna and 

Banana Oatmeal Breakfast Bites!