Cancer rants II

Some members of the "cancer club" sent in great practical advice on the kinds of things that are helpful. Like this:

I truly appreciated cards from people as just a nice way to know that someone was thinking of me. I saved them all! I knew that people did not know what to say on the phone, I actually had people tell me that when I saw them, so a card is a perfect way to communicate. Also, having food sent over for my kids; even if it was mac and cheese from a box. Some nights, it was difficult to boil water and make something as easy as that so having it made was such a help! Basically, the gesture does not have to be elaborate, just heart felt! Club members appreciate anything, will remember it and will reciprocate when the time comes.

And this--

The best verbal support is the kind that doesn't make me have to explain how I feel. Don't ask questions, make a pleasant statement, like, "It's good to see you!" Or, "I've been thinking of you."

Don't say, "Let me know if there is anything I can do..." I don't want to burden someone with a request. Instead, call and say, "Hey, I'm headed to the market, is there anything you need that I can get while I'm there?" or "We're going apple picking (or whatever...) and I know you bake a great apple pie. Can I bring you a bag of apples?"

I'm on the prayer list at church and I get several cards a week from members of the congregation. If you know someone who is having an extended tough time, no matter the reason, pick up a few cards, write a note in each and address them. Then mail the one per week. Those constant snail-mail smiles are a wonderful warm hug.

And this--

What helped me the most, besides taking a more active role in my treatment, were those who found it in themselves to keep some kind of 'normalness' in my life. There were many things I could not do, but we found ways to do things that never - not once - reminded anyone, especially myself, that I was sick.

Sometimes it was as simple as having an entire 'girls night out' where not one of us acknowledged my having to occasionally disappear to the ladies room to upchuck those garlic fries I knew I should never have eaten on the first place. Where no one would mention that my bandana was slipping; no words, no looks, never a break in the conversation - just a quick, surreptitious, gentle nudge to put it back into place.

For me, the best thing some my friends were able to do, was to find ways to treat me as a person - not a person with cancer. Each one of us is unique, just as our particular diagnoses and prognoses are. No one thing will work for everyone. But if you are lucky enough to have friends who know you well - really well, they will know those little things that should not change - cannot change - just because you have this disease. I guess...no, I know...I am very lucky.