It is difficult to know sometimes what to say and what to do
when someone you know has a cancer diagnosis. Many of us are frightened of
saying the wrong thing, causing distress or being ignorant. We want to help but don’t know what would be
helpful. I’ve fallen into that category many times but having been through it
myself, I now have a better idea! However, everyone is different and how you
react to a very close friend or family member will be very different to
somebody you just know in passing.
I was met with many different responses some of which were
unbelievably kind and helpful and others which caused me considerable distress.
There are no right or wrong answers but by telling you some of the things I
experienced, maybe you can make up your own mind as to what would be most
acceptable.
When I got my cancer diagnosis I was in shock and I told
very few people – my family, one or two close friends and a club I was in as I
was due to attend a meeting and would no longer be able to attend. I had
forgotten though, how village jungle drums work and although I had told maybe a
handful of people, the news spread quickly. I was overwhelmed with people
messaging or stopping me in the street to say how sorry they were. Although
meant kindly, I found this difficult to deal with though later I was relieved
not to have to explain things over and over again – so a mixed blessing!
There were several things that did annoy me.
One – being told
over and over again that I would lose my hair. I’m not particularly vain, I don’t
spend hours styling my hair and I’ve had the same style for more years than I
care to remember but the thought of losing it was terrifying. Over and over and
over I was told you will lose your hair, you will have to shave your head, you’ll
have to get a wig and so on. As it happens not every type of chemotherapy
causes hair loss but this was the question, I asked several times pre
appointments and this was surprisingly the thing I needed most reassurance
about. At that point, surgery, chemotherapy, feeling ill etc were not
significant, losing my hair was and people going on about it caused me endless
anxiety and sleepless nights.
Two – what’s your prognosis?
People were basically asking me was I going to die? I didn’t know! I didn’t know how serious my diagnosis was,
what the long-term effects were, whether it would kill me or not and it wasn’t
something I particularly wanted to think about. As far as I was concerned, I
was taking things one day at a time and not looking too far ahead. It was only by
doing that, that I could cope with the madness around me. I didn’t want to be
fearful for my future, I just wanted to put my faith in the professionals and
get through it.
Three –I know somebody who went through that and they are
fine so you will be too. No two cases are the same. Nobody goes through exactly
the same symptoms, surgery, recovery etc. I didn’t really want to know about
anybody else because I was focused purely on myself at that point (not selfish,
necessary) but also, I knew that it wasn’t something I could be blasé about it.
I couldn’t think oh if they were fine, I will be too. I didn’t know what they
would find on opening me up. I didn’t know if I needed chemo. I didn’t know what
side effects I would suffer if I did.
Four – How are you feeling? And you look well! Both statements were meant with kindness but
could be irritating. I often looked well and felt dreadful! And trying to
explain how you are feeling is so difficult at times, you generally just say I’m
fine which is quickly accepted. In the end I tended to say It is a good day or
a not so good day which people seemed to accept and cope with better. I did get
fed up of talking about my illness though and would rather have enjoyed a
different conversation that stopped me thinking about cancer and its various
issues.
I was surrounded by the most lovely and generous people. I
received many cards, messages, e mails and letters. Thankfully in the early
days, there weren’t many phone calls or video calls as I just didn’t feel up to
them but what was so lovely is that messages were sent but if I couldn’t reply
it didn’t matter. People just wanted me to know that they were thinking of me
and willing me on – that is powerful and means so much.
My house looked like a florist there were so many beautiful
arrangements. I loved them all. I was inundated but they made me feel special.
I had gifts of books, home made cakes, biscuits, luxury
chocolates, handmade trinkets – the list was long. People were so generous and
thoughtful and every single thing was appreciated.
Just as appreciated were those who came for short visits
when I felt up to it. Who sat in the garden with me just chatting about every
day stuff, who gave up their lunchbreaks to spend some time with me and who
took me out when I was unable to drive or walk very far. We didn’t have to do
anything lavish but getting out particularly after the pandemic was a huge
boost to my well-being. People didn’t have to spend money for me to appreciate
them, donating their time was just as valuable and provided me with much needed
company.
Those that continued to check in months afterwards when I had
finished treatment but was still finding things hard were also hugely
appreciated. Sadly, things do not miraculously go back to normal once treatment
is over and side effects and mental effects can go on for a considerable time. Checking
in every now and again shows how much you care.
Some people offered to do jobs for me. It was difficult if
they asked can I help? I could never
really think of things to say to that, but when they said I’m going shopping,
can I get you anything? It was much easier to answer. I’m mowing my lawn, can I
do yours for you? I’ve got the washing
machine on, can I do a load for you? Any little tasks like that can make a huge
difference between getting by and coping and help to relieve worries that you
are not able to do the usual daily tasks.
But in general, I would say don’t worry too much. Your
friend is still your friend, they just have cancer as well! They still want to
know what the daily happenings are, the office gossip, the run of the mill
stuff. They know that you mean well and as long as you take time to think
before speaking so that you don’t say anything truly upsetting, you will be
forgiven.
Tips
Avoid talk of hair loss unless they bring it up.
Don’t talk of doom and gloom all the time, try to lighten
the mood with fun and interesting conversations.
Don’t compare your friend’s illness to someone else and
assure them they will be fine. They probably will be but sometimes they just
don’t know that or believe it at the time.
Be there for your friend. Offer a comforting shoulder,
support when needed, a listening ear.
Be clear on what you can offer to do rather than asking if
there is anything you can do for them. If they are like me, they won’t like
asking for help but if something specific is offered, it is sometimes easier to
accept.
Write a note or letter or a card with a funny picture on it.
It doesn’t have to say much but a few words can mean a great deal.
Don’t put pressure on your friend to ring you or facetime
you. They may not be feeling their best or look their best. They may not feel
comfortable with the way they are looking.
Take the lead from them.
Most importantly continue to be you! Be there and listen and
remain the true friend that you are. No
gifts are necessary, no platitudes, no promises – just your presence, your
support and your understanding at this truly difficult time are important. And
if you stick by your friend, then you can’t really go wrong!