*BOO!* I Have Cancer!

This fall, I've been participating in a cancer recovery program at my local YMCA. Twice a week, I meet with other cancer survivors. Theoretically, we spend half an hour talking like a support group, then spend an hour on cardio and strength training.

Sometimes our group is more "talkee," less "workee." My main goal in the program is physical improvement, but on days like today, when I really just wanted to stay in bed or on the couch watching the Food Network, I was all in on the long conversation and the short workout. :)

(I did walk home from the Y and walk my dog, so I did do my 30+ minutes today.)

Today's topic was the "new normal" after cancer: what was it like, did we accept it, did we fight against it.

This is a group of women. Naturally, we didn't stay on topic. Well, eventually we answered the question. I think.

But one of our rabbit trails has stuck in my mind today. Several women commented on lost friendships. People who were close to them, but didn't know how to handle a friend with cancer, so they just disappeared.

Were they scared? It's not like cancer's catching, but it does force us to face mortality on some level, and some people just won't go there. One person said "friends" claimed they could SMELL the cancer. (Seriously?! And you would SAY that? I'd go and make lutefisk, just so I could have a lye bath to scrub off the alleged smell.) Others have no idea how to help and freeze into inactivity, fading out of the picture.

Aren't we terribly afraid of not having all the answers? Of not knowing exactly what to do? And when we don't know, we retreat, rather than ask and try to understand? I wish our culture encouraged more vulnerability so it would be easier to say, "I care about you, but I have no idea what this is like, or what to do for you."

Of course, it's a lot less fun to hang out with someone who's not doing well. Maybe you used to go out hiking or eating or dancing, and now your partner in crime is weak and nauseous and hanging out in the chemo infusion room. We're not having much fun, either, obviously, but we really need - and appreciate - our people. You are good medicine.

My biggest need through treatment has been having someone present. I have infinite appreciation for the meals, cleaning, dog walking, gifts, etc. that an army of people have provided for me, but what I want and value the most is someone THERE: to sit with me during chemo, or to visit me at home, or go out to lunch. Having my husband drive me to and from my blood draws makes me feel spoiled and - almost - pampered.

So here's the question I want to answer: 

What should you do when someone gets cancer? 

Everyone offers help, and it's so normal to feel helpless. The person with cancer doesn't want to admit they need help because that would be admitting that Cancer has claimed some of their territory. We're pretty desperate if we actually ask for help beyond agreeing to some meals. And sometimes we don't understand that you NEED to help, probably more than we need you to help - you need something tangible to do, rather than stand helplessly by and read our CarePage update about how sick we're feeling.

Here's what I've learned:

Do what you like to do. Say something like "I want to clean/cook/drive/whatever for you. Would that help? When?"

If you like to cook, bring a meal. Ask about preferences - it might need to be mild, it might need to go in the freezer.

If you like to clean, offer to clean. And be a little forceful and specific about what you want to do. You could just do the vacuuming. Or wash their car. And try to convince them you WANT to help in this way. This might be the most refused service - if I've been sick, my house is a mess and I don't want to share that with anyone. Better secret rings in the toilet than asking someone to attack them, right?

If you like to do yard work, ask when you can come over to mow and edge. Or when you can send the kids to weed. :)

If you like to make or buy cards, don't even ask - just drop them in the mail.

If you have lots of money and no time, send a gift card for take out or groceries.

If you like to drive, offer to take them to and from appointments.

If you spend all day running around town, offer to drop off and pick up prescriptions, or run other errands.

If you're a beauty fanatic, offer to help them with makeup, wigs, scarves, etc.

If you like TV, movies or sports, offer to come over and watch with them. Emphasize no hostessing required: they answer the door and return to the couch. It's OK to be slightly, lovingly bossy.

If you love all things medical and like to research (on credible sites), ask if they need more information about anything (it's OK to bring suggestions). My group today also touched on how much you DON'T learn from the doctors and nurses ahead of time. (Disclaimer: there's an enormous mountain of information about cancer, and patients can only absorb so much each time, and we don't want to scare you unnecessarily, so we pick and choose what we tell you in the interest of absorption and relevance.) This is a tricky one - you need to have a good relationship and you need to be sensitive to the person with cancer- able to sense when they're overwhelmed. And you must stick to good, solid, well-researched information. They have plenty of people offering them one miraculous food or supplement or headstand position that will cure everything.

If you share a low-key hobby, bring your knitting over and chat, or bring them a copy of your favorite new book or video game.

If you like to talk (and your friend likes to listen to you or talk with you), take them to (or meet them at) coffee, or lunch, or chemo. Or go to their house. Ask what they want to talk about. Sometimes they will want to talk about cancer. Sometimes they will want to talk about anything BUT cancer.

If you like the same music, poems, or inspirational quotes, go and find some to share with them. One of my friends combs Pinterest for well designed quotes, and every once in awhile they pop up in my inbox, usually with no subject line. :)

If they have a blog, read it and comment once in awhile. You can make the comment private if you want. We can see who visits, and those visits and comments are infinitely encouraging.

You get the idea: use your gifts, be gently assertive, and go love your friend.

Don't be afraid - we're figuring this out as we go along, too.

P.S. In this scenario, there's also a caregiver - the spouse, parent, child - the person who is the primary support person. Don't forget them! Take them out and do something fun! Ask how they're doing and just listen - no advice, no judgment, no turning it back to you. This is a good way to find out what they might need, and you can go forth afterward and recruit help. If they don't want to leave the cancer patient, find out what the patient needs, stay there, and let the caregiver go out. In some ways, being a caregiver is harder than being the patient. They need love and support, too.