You hear her saying it:
…cancer… bones… abdomen… lymph nodes…
Your brain reluctantly processes the horrible words.
Oh God, no!
You’re standing by the kitchen window. Phone clutched in your hand. Mercilessly catapulted out of your safe world.
Heart-breaking pictures of clinical rooms, sickening treatments and exhausted people fly through your mind. Your friend is in a great trouble.
Her life is coming to an end.
When my friend Ann was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I felt out of breath. I was gasping for air as if punched in my stomach.
“What shall I say to her?”
I didn’t know.
When Meaning Well Turns Wrong
Our good intentions sometimes bring turmoil into our friends’ lives.
What do people with cancer perceive as hurtful? What do they find helpful?
Here’s what I’ve learned…
DO NOT:
• Tell her that you know what she is going through: “I know exactly how you feel”. No, you don’t. We are all unique. Even suffering from the same illness, we have different experiences.
• Say what she should or shouldn’t feel: “Feel strong!” or “Don’t worry”. She has the right to her own feelings.
• Exclaim “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Because it makes a bad situation worse. Believe me, I’ve seen it.
• Dismiss the reality and encourage false hope, saying: “You‘ll beat it, I know!” or “I’m sure you‘ll be fine.” Yep, that’s what you may hope. But she might want to talk about her illness and looming death.
• Tell her to be a fighter: “You must be strong and fight it”. True, for some people ‘fight’ metaphors can give meaning and direction. For others they are brutal. Imagine someone holding a knife to your throat. You’re crippled with angst. How easy is it to be a hero? Yep. You don’t want to put extra weight on her shoulders.
• Talk about your own, your mother’s or some bloody celebrity’s illness. It is not what she wants to hear right now.
• Offer advice: “You should try this and that”; “Have you done such and such?” or “I just know what you should do”. You can’t solve this problem.
• Change the subject: “Have I told you, my boss is a total nutter?” or “By the way, how is your husband coping?” Her feelings are important now. Other people’s feelings can wait.
• Turn your back on her. Staying away is the worst option when she needs you.
Feeling fearful and awkward is human. But let me tell you something:
IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU.
Repeat it as a mantra, and it‘ll keep you from hurting your friend.
Mindful Things to Say
So you’re standing there with a phone in your hand, trying not to screw up. Feverishly searching for the right thing to say. You’re overwhelmed, and nothing comes to your mind.
Simply admit: “I don’t know what to say, love.”
Tell her you to find it hard to talk about illness: “I need some time to process. To adjust. But I want you to know that I’ll be there for you.”
… All I could say to Anne, was: “That’s crap!”
QUESTIONS TO ASK:
• Do you feel like talking? I’m here to listen.
• Do you want me just listen or do you want my advice?
• Crap! What are we going to do about it?
• What are you thinking of doing? Tell me how I can help.
• How are you feeling?
• How are you coping?
Be sure to sound like you, not like a manual for caretakers.
Be prepared for a range of responses. She might talk or fall silent. She might change the subject or start crying. Hang in there!
Let her decide how much she wants to share. Sometimes Ann talks briefly about her last treatment. The other day we chatted happily about old times, for an hour. And some days she retreats into herself, too exhausted to talk. That’s fine, too.
When she talks, I’m all ears. I ask specific questions like “How did they change your chemo, again?” I keep eye contact.
Have you ever felt angry, sad and overwhelmed by your friend’s illness? I know. Go ahead, tell her. Show how much your care. BUT be brief and calm. Don’t overload her with your own emotions.
Don’t be afraid of tears. Cry with her when she cries.
When Words Are Redundant
Words are not the only way to say how much you care.
Use your body language to show you see her pain. Take her hand or give her a hug. Brush her hair or polish her nails. We all need a human touch. Skin-to-skin contact is incredibly healing. It makes us happier, healthier and less anxious.
How to Be
Be your usual self.
You might think: “Easier said than done.” I know.
What helps me is to remember Ann is still the same person. Between hospital treatments, pains and worries, she needs to feel normal. I visualize us walking through the fields, passing farmhouses, enjoying the afternoon sun. When we used to go out for walks, she knew all dogs on the road and greeted each of them with a treat.
And when I first moved to Denmark, I remember how kind and supportive Ann was. She made me feel welcome. How we danced, laughed and were just silly.
I want to treat her as I always have.
Laugh!
Everyone needs a break from illness. She does, so do you.
Cheer up with humour and laughter. They are whopping tonics for the immune system. Find a funny book or buy her favourite magazines, and read them together. Or watch comedies of her choice.
Talk about your happiest memories. Like that trip on horseback in Highlands, remember? That “I’ll-give-you-a-peace-of-my-mind” -guide with a hilarious accent, nobody really got? Or your wedding day with her as your bridesmaid? That crazy night all those years ago.
Dress up like you used to. Make fun of each other!
Helpful Things to Do
Offer her practical help, if you can. Be concrete. “I’m going to a grocery store. What can I bring for you?” or “I’ll pick you up a quarter to two. We’re going for a ride” instead of a general “What can I do for you?” – question. Gathering thoughts might not be easy for her.
Bake or buy her favourite cake and bring it to her. Have coffee together. Or offer to take her car to a carwash, and give her a ride when she needs one.
Don’t take it personally if she says: “Thanks but no”. She might feel sick. Ask again another day.
Send her a text or an email. Write something like: “I miss your company” or “I’m thinking of you”. Sometimes I attach photos to a text to Ann. A King Charles spaniel puppy, storming down a slope, leaving a whirl of dead leaves behind. Crocus and snowdrops in my garden, an explosion of blue and white. Or just a weirdly shaped tree. She answers with smiles and hearts.
Send her a handwritten postcard with a meaningful note like I sent Ann last year: “Regatta has started today. Remember this Frigate? I’m thinking of you.”
Grab the Opportunity to Grow
We all die. Eventually.
But being aware of an inevitable end is a strong enticement to live consciously, isn’t it?
You love your friend and care about her. So make sure she knows it. Never fall out of her life because it’s hard for you. A brief visit, a call or a postcard – everything is better than leaving her wondering why you’ve vanished.
Remember, feeling awkward talking to an ill friend is normal. Like feeling anxious and angry about her imminent death.
Look your fears in the eye, and learn from this experience. You’ll become one lesson richer, wiser and stronger.
Your heart is in the right place.
Be good.
Images: Stock-snap.io; Pixabay
What an inspiring text – one grow and get wiser by reading it😊
Thank You Irina
You’re welcome, Jeanette.
I learned a lot myself, and I thought that somebody else might find it helpful, too.
Thank you for stopping by and for your feedback.
I appreciate.😊
Well said 🙂
About 11 years ago I had ovarian cancer. The best thing I heard at the time came from my Father. There are four different types of ovarian cancer. I had three of them. My Father very casually said to me “You missed one”. It was the funniest thing I heard at the time.
Not everyone understands why cancer can be worth laughing at. The world is so afraid of it but I took a step back and realised that cancer, as nasty and horrible as it can be, is still just a disease like any other disease and it’s not the only one that can kill you. This is how I chose to deal with it and overcome it. By putting cancer into perspective and not giving away my power to unreasonable fear. It’s also why, unless it’s at the beginning of a sentence, I always write the word cancer with a lowercase “c”. I may not have been able to control the disease but I could control how I dealt with it.
The worst thing about having cancer was other peoples reactions. The way people looked at me. They forgot that I had a disease but I was not the disease. People would look at me with fear. I knew that it was the disease they were afraid of but it was me they were looking at. I found it a really unpleasant symptom of cancer.
I also really dislike peoples names for cancer as well. Things like The C Word and all that crap. It’s cancer. It is what it is and refusing to call it by name is living in denial which, ultimately, helps no one.
I really like your page and the things you say. They’ve been quite helpful. Thank you.
I agree, some people get scared by illness like cancer, but I believe that most of us don’t know how to behave themselves around someone who’s seriously ill. (They don’t teach us that in schools or in families) I wrote this article when a friend of mine told me about her cancer—I didn’t know what to say and I‘m a psychologist! We are scared to say something wrong and offend the person. And the same fear arises around humor—you don’t laugh about serious things like illness, most of us believe. And it’s probably getting worse because of the misinterpreted political correctness. I was lucky with my friend Tut — she had so much love for life and lots of humor, she made it easier for us to be with her and learn to be good friends in her last months.
What a gift to have your dad during that difficult time — he knew what you needed And gave it to you. And I’m so happy to hear that you beat your cancer, and your attitude was probably one of the primer factors of healing.
I believe that we should enjoy life even when we heal from a physical or mental illness, because it helps us to get through.
Thank you very much for your comment and for your kind words. I hope you will find my blog interesting and inspiring also in the future. Nice to meeting you. See you.
Thank you for your reply and sorry if I sounded a little harsh (it sounded a little that way when I re-read my own comment a moment ago).
I do understand that it is often difficult for others to know what to do and say. I think that sometimes I forget that my own medical history (which began the day I was born) taught me early on that having a disease (or condition) doesn’t change who you are and to just treat folks the same way you always do.
I had a life giving surgery (my second) at the age of four and suddenly my parents started treating me like I was a different person. It caused a lot of damage that I am still trying to overcome.
I’m glad your friend had such a supportive circle around her. It really does make a difference to all involved.
Nice to meet you also 😁
No need for an apology. 🤗
I agree that illness doesn’t change who we are, and we should treat ourselves and others as usual. At least we should try our best. We need lots of self-compassion, compassion and empathy. I believe that humor and creativity helps a lot too. No matter if the illness is physical or mental. Do you agree?
And if the people close to us don’t treat us properly, we better tell them what we need and what hurts. And we can also try to find people who better understand what you are going through.
I’m sorry to hear what you have been through-it’s more than a fair share. I wish you all the best, especially good health. 🤗