What's helpful … and what's not
A few friends have asked me “what’s helpful and what’s not?” right now. I want to start out by saying everyone is different and responds differently to things, but after speaking with a number of other ladies, here are a few things that are helpful - and a few that are not - to us.
1. Surprises without expectations. Gifts are not usually something that speak to my heart, but recently unexpected surprises in the mail and on the front porch have been encouraging. Opening the door and finding something on the doorstep - something that was left without the doorbell ever ringing - those surprises truly mean something to me because there have been a few days I don’t know if I would have opened the door had the bell rang.
From a friend on her own journey with cancer:
“Offer to take your friend to chemo, or go with her to a doctor's appointment.
Have a girls’ day out where you go to the beach /lake together or go out to eat. Send a care package.
One of my best friends sent me a blanket, ginger chews, and a salt lamp. It was so caring and thoughtful.”
2. Words of encouragement. April sent this message to me recently, and it’s one I’ve saved and will go back to repeatedly.
Sometimes when our physical strength wains, all we have is our mental strength. Know that, whatever comes your way, you have the mental strength and the tenacity to keep going.
The three simple yet profound words my family keep saying to me as I was battling cancer was, “You got this!”
Becky, I know you got this! Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Do the next thing that you have to do and think of only that, until it’s time to do what comes after that.
I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers. 🙏
3. Companionship. Lunch dates and walks around the park are wonderful distractions as I wait for my surgery date.
4. Suggestions of what you want to do to help versus “let me know if I can help sometime” are helpful. For example, Joyce said:
I would love for someone to say, “Is it okay if I bring you dinner on Friday night?” instead of saying, “Let me know if I can bring you dinner one day.” I might never take you up on a general offer, but when you ask me about a specific date, that helps me focus and decide on a time that works.
5. Listening is always appreciated. Unsolicited advice and suggestions … not so much. Questions can feel overwhelming at times, but thoughtful questions are encouraging. Please be satisfied with what I am willing to share with you instead of pressing me for more information. From a friend:
“Listening and humor. These are two things that really help me.”
Lilli said:
“I need someone to talk to who understands some basic information about the type of cancer I have, who cares about what I am going through, and will listen to the fears I can’t share with my family.”
6. Understanding that each cancer and each person's experience are different. In one of the groups where I am a member, Hannah shared:
“I wish people would Google GCT and understand its uniqueness instead of comparing my illness to someone else’s. I’m not your mom or your aunt, and my situation is different.”
7. Assume that I have done my research, lived a healthy lifestyle, and made smart choices instead of asking if I have 1) taken this or that supplement, 2) used this essential oil, or 3) eaten this particular diet. From another patient:
“I didn’t do anything to bring this one myself. I didn’t miss doing anything, either. According to my doctor, this is genetic, it’s luck of the draw. It hurts when friends ask me if I did or didn’t do something in the past . . . or tell me by taking a certain vitamin I can be healthy in the future. It’s not that simple. Can you change the color of your eyes by rubbing an essential oil on your eyelids?”
8. Texts that aren’t trite or overly spiritualized are encouraging.
One of my favorite texts from a friend:
“Had you on my mind this morning. No verses or scriptures. Just wanted you to know I was thinking and praying about you in my quiet time.”
9. Finally, don’t let the above make you afraid to reach out. According to Anna,
”Just check in. Say hi. Text. Call. Write. Whatever you can do. I found some people were scared they didn’t know what to say or how to say it, and so they didn’t say anything. Some just disappeared from my life during my cancer treatments at the time I needed support most, and that was sad to me.”
I agree with Anna.
Friends, more than anything it doesn’t matter what you do or say when it comes from a heart of love. What matters is that you show up, that you care, that you understand that you truly can’t understand, but, please, don’t let that stop you from trying.
A recent lunch date with friends encouraged me greatly.