Talking to Cancer Patients,

...and not making a fool out of yourself.

~~~

With Handsome Hubs, Jack, in the financial planning world, I attended a life insurance seminar with him to support one of his colleagues who helped with the presentation.  Of course, a presentation like this naturally invites self-reflection and postulating on one’s future.  As the presentation went on, I suddenly felt rather alienated.

So here I am educating myself about life insurance—I am in my late 20’s, a healthy weight, a healthy lifestyle, employed… and utterly un-insurable.   All thanks to that dastardly, little phrase pre-existing condition.  Whaaaa :’(  

(chart from Global Tort article reading "Over 10 Million Americans are uninsurable cancer survivors... do you take your health insurance coverage for granted?")

Is that depressing, or what?  I will always be behind the 8-ball. 

So the only good news is that I am finally confident that my life will not end like a Poirot episode… nobody will possibly be able to murder me for the life insurance money, because I can’t get a policy!  What a relief, right? Haha

This is just a small example of how that whole cancer thing is still always on my mind (no pun intended) and still seems to feel so ridiculously unfair.

Somehow I got subscribed to Cosmopolitan magazine (this has a point, I swear…), I don’t pay for it and I never have –as far as I am aware—but it just keeps showing up in our mailbox, so sometimes I read it on the elliptical while listening to Stuff Mom Never Told You, to get my extra boost of female empowerment for the day.  It is a trashy magazine with a lot of nonsense articles and laughable fashion advice.  Generally all things read therein are of dubious credibility, scarcely hiding a nefarious agenda, or they're just plain stupid.

So you can imagine my surprise when a very refreshing and captivating article caught my eye enough to pause my podcast, and then actually read through the entire article, and then be inspired to write this very blog post.  Yes, miracles do happen, as evidenced by something remotely worthwhile being found within the pages of Cosmo.  (To give credit where it is due, they seem to have one EXCELLENT article about every quarter.)

The article is called I Have Cancer And It Sucks and it is written by chemo-weakened, smooth-headed Deanna Pai who is, of all occupations, a Beauty Editor for Cosmopolitan.  I have come to expect reading these syrupy, uplifting “I beat cancer and I am so much stronger now that I would not change anything about my life…” articles by cancer survivors.  Whomever keeps writing all these articles is lying.  I, for one, would not wish my brain tumor removal surgery on my worst enemy.  Living a life of uncertainty and unfairness is a life that anyone in their right mind would go back and change if they could!  I certainly agree with this little article's title—everything about cancer SUCKS and there’s no doubt about it!

I admit that although I lost plenty of hair and had plenty of nasty radiation side effects, getting chemotherapy is a whole different (horrible) ballgame.    Still, I could totally relate to this part of her piece:

“[After describing her pretty healthy lifestyle…]  How am I the cancer patient?  How?  I need an explanation, but there is none.   Researchers at Johns Hopkins just discovered that many cancers are, like mine, the work of plain bad luck.

“I feel better in the waiting room…surrounded by all the other unlucky people.  We’re in this together, even if most are old and decrepit and have had the chance to live their lives.  Then I step outside and see the people whose veins are whole, who have hair on their heads, who didn’t spend the morning being stabbed repeatedly with giant needles.  I hate and envy them all.  But nothing pisses me off quite like a smoker.  Really?  You want to look like me?”

Oh, the lengthy complaints I left at Penn Medicine regarding all of the people smoking outside the hospital…  Smokers really drive me crazy, now more than ever.  It is a simply asinine habit.

The article-writer then went on to discuss some do’s and don’ts for when talking with someone going through cancer.  This is a very important thing to think about before you find yourself in this exact conversation and end up hurting someone's fragile feelings, or not being a resource for someone when you could have been.

Based on my own experiences, I wrote up some my own list of things to keep in mind when you speak to a loved one or friend after he or she has had seriously bad medical news, a major operation, radiation, chemo, et cetera:

-We are EXHAUSTED.  Emotionally, physically, financially—exhausted in every way.  Our bodies are doing the best they can do…which is not that great. 

-We may want to be ALONE.  Considering how tired we are, and how prone we are to combust into tears, being around people –even the ones we love—may be overwhelming.  And we may not have the energy to vocalize this when you are sitting on our couch, and in our face.  Please respect our space and (1) ask before visiting, (2) keeps visits brief, and (3) don’t get upset that we don’t just “cheer up” because you are there with your happy face on.

-Sometimes we want to TALK about what’s going on, and sometimes we really don’t.  My advice is to ask about our schedule, to assess if we need rides or other help.  But don’t ask about the nitty-gritty directly.  Sometimes I knew that if I started talking about certain things, I would have an emotional melt-down, so I just didn't want to go there.  But if I do want to talk with you about what I am going through, please just let me talk as long as I need.  You may be the only person I feel I can be honest with, so please don’t rob me of that relief from sharing my pain.

-Do not, I repeat, DO NOT proceed to tell us, “Oh, my grandpa’s sister/my cousin/my neighbor/my sister-in-law/whomever had cancer, so I know how rough it can be.”  Especially don’t tell these stories if the subject ultimately died.  This should be obvious, but you would not believe how many times I heard, “Oh, my grandpa died of brain cancer…”  GEE, THANKS!  Happy to hear that rousing anti-success story!   Also, even if your relative somehow had the same exact cancer as me, everyone’s experience is so vastly different, that there is really not much comfort in hearing you compare us, especially since you have no idea what you’re talking about.

-Adding to the one above^, YOU DON’T KNOW HOW ROUGH IT CAN BE.   Comments like “I understand,” “I’ve been through something similar…” (having your tonsils removed is NOT similar!!) or “I know how you feel” = slaps in the face that minimize our pain.

-People were really sweet about bringing food, but my diet was SO restricted after surgery and then my appetite was SO messed up during radiation, that I didn’t eat much of anything that people brought me.  So if a loved one near you is fighting cancer, definitely do call and ask if you can bring them food, but be sure to ask specific questions like, (1) Are there foods you are focusing on or staying away from right now?  (2) What things sound good to you right now? (for me, it was exclusively potatoes and ice cream sandwiches!)  (3) What time of day are you usually hungry and able to eat?  (4) What can I bring you in particular from your favorite café?  We may be too tired or apathetic to tell you these things spontaneously, so please ask.  Having something we are actually looking forward to eating can really turn our day around.

-This final point was driven home by the Cosmo article, sometimes the best response when we are feeling down, is a simple “That really sucks.”  Because, yes, it does suck and not everyone is willing to acknowledge that.  Doctors can’t possibly have the emotional capacity to commiserate with every patient, plus they are focused on long-term fixing, not on how bad of a day you’re having.   And many well-meaning people have nothing to offer but un-ending, forced positivity.  But no matter how you spin it, we are in a really crappy situation, and we know it.  “You’ll be okay; you’re strong,” is not necessarily true, and we don’t want to hear it.   “That sucks, I love you, can I bring you a treat or a movie to help today be a tiny bit better?”  Now that’s a winning response.