So your friend has cancer and you don't know what to say, show up anyway.
It can be tough to know what to say when you find out a friend or colleague has cancer. But silence is loud when your entire world has been turned upside down. So yes, you might say the wrong thing, but please don’t ghost them. Odds are you won’t be the one to say the most insensitive thing they’ll hear about their diagnosis, so speak up. I am lucky to have amazing friends, but the conversations I've had with fellow cancer patients paint a bleak picture. So many report people they thought were good friends simply disappearing when they hear about their diagnosis. Not knowing what to say isn't an excuse to hide from them. There are no magic words you could say that will fix things and your friend deserves better.
If it is helpful to have the perspective of someone with incurable cancer, here is a short, minimally sarcastic (by my standards), list of things you might want to avoid saying:
1. Oh no, that’s a really bad cancer!
No one needs to feel like you are already planning what to wear to their funeral. Odds are they will already know a lot more about the cancer they’ve been diagnosed with than you do. Unless you’re an oncologist, in which case it is your job to give us the hard news. Which means no one else has to. So, everyone else, you just don’t need to say it.
2. At least that’s a good cancer.
Seriously, do you actually believe in good cancer? Do you also believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy? There are no good cancers. Some are more treatable and curable than others. Treatment requirements vary and some are less brutal than others. But cancer is unpredictable, so don’t belittle someone’s diagnosis with bullshit about good cancers. Cancer is scary, and yes, some people have good prognoses and brilliant outcomes. But even if you are mystic Meg, don’t make assumptions about anyone’s cancer experience or what the future might hold for them.
3. My friend/relative/favourite celebrity/pet poodle died of that cancer.
Do I really need to explain why this is bad? We already know cancer kills people. Unless you have hands on experience as a carer that would genuinely be useful to your friend, do they need to hear about the deaths of people they have never even met, simply because they share a disease?
4. Have you tried eating broccoli/ baking soda/ turmeric/ apple cider vinegar/ any other miracle ingredient they’ve come up with? It cures cancer.
Sigh. In shock news, there isn’t a huge conspiracy to hide the fact that a cheap, easily accessible ingredient is the secret cure for cancer. Eating more broccoli won’t save you from cancer, but if you need to eat buckets of it to feel in control, fill your boots. People with healthy lifestyles and healthy diets, still get cancer. That is a fact. I frigging love turmeric, and have done for years. I eat it because it is good for me and tasty. I believe it genuinely helps when I have a cold. But it has had zero impact on my cancer. If it did, I would never have recurred. While I am working hard to get back to a healthy body, following brutally poisoning it with chemo, that is so that I can live my best life and be in the best shape possible to deal with a recurrence. The fact that I was so healthy and robust when my cancer recurred this time meant my oncologist was able to negotiate an unusual (for my flavour of cancer) surgical approach for me, which is why I am now in remission. So, a healthy, nourished body is never a waste of time. It just doesn’t guarantee you are safe from cancer.
5. You look really well.
This is a weird one to explain, but when you are sick, and particularly if you are going through treatment, it can be jarring to be told how well you look. There were days I felt like hell, and people would cheerfully, and well-meaningly tell me how good I looked (the “considering” was silent). It was oddly isolating, like we were in the same place but occupying different worlds. Cancer is alienating enough already. It is meant so kindly, but if you hear it on a loop, it can make you shut down. Although it can be effective if you are trying to avoid a conversation about how they are really feeling.
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6. You are so brave/ such an inspiration.
Are you saying you would curl up and wait to die in the same situation? Does my life seem so awful to you? None of us choose to have cancer. All of us who do will have bad days. I never felt brave or inspirational. I found the concept bizarre. I did my best not to die. I had my treatments and my surgeries. I spent an inordinate amount of time on the toilet. I listened to my doctors. I told some very dark jokes. I cried at night, because of pain or fear or both. Sometimes, if you were special to me, I daytime cried on you. I was angry (still am, truth be told). I was tired. Mostly I was scared and in pain. I took full advantage of the psychological support I got through Macmillan Cancer Support (they helped me in so many ways). None of us know our limits, until we are pushed to them. I was lucky to have a good medical team, an amazing mum, and wonderful, supportive friends and family. Plus, I can’t not mention the cats. Night times during chemo were the hardest, and if I was restless with pain, my giant ginger cat Louis, would lie at the end of my bed purring soothingly. He was the best furry carer I could have asked for. So, I wasn’t brave, I just had many people (and a couple of felines) holding me up. It’s the people who turn up for you when you have cancer who are the true inspirations.
7. None of us know how long we’ve got.
When someone is incurable or terminal, people seem to have a strong urge to make them feel better about the fact that they are facing a shorter than anticipated lifespan. It is true, none of us know how long we have. But while a healthy person is swanning around enjoying that uncertain lifespan, many incurable or terminal cancer (or any other chronic illness come to mention it) patients are enduring painful treatments to buy themselves a few more weeks/months/years. It simply is not the same thing. I am lucky, I am incurable but in full remission. I could have years before my cancer starts causing mischief again. Or it could be months. I find it impossible not to be aware of the tick, tick, tick of my clock counting down. My life will now be lived in 3-monthly cycles, that’s how often I’m tested for cancer. Although, in a fit of optimism, I have made some plans for January, so take that cancer!
8. What can I do to help?
Obviously, this isn’t a bad thing to ask someone with cancer. However, when someone is dealing with a life altering diagnosis, they will struggle to know what they need. Plus, one of my cancer symptoms and chemo side effects was brain fog (which is far from rare) so I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what to do to help me. The most helpful thing you can do is suggest specific things you can do. I had a couple of friends offer to weed my garden. That was the best my little garden has looked in years. I had others who would say “I’m in Sainsbury’s, can I pick something up for you?”, which is much easier to answer than the vague, no context “Is there anything you need?” Focus the mind of your friend on the specific support you are offering. It is astonishing how much it helps.
The above is not intended to shut down conversation. I can’t help but recognise that I inhabit the grumpier end of the cancer spectrum. Any hopes that cancer might make me zen have long evaporated. But in my own, grumpy way, I am hoping to inspire conversation. Speak to your friend in the way you would normally speak to them. Listen to them, they will be trying to work out how they are feeling and for many of us talking it out helps. The best thing you can do for them is to be as natural as possible. Follow their lead. If you drop a clanger, so be it. They’re probably not keeping score (or maybe they are, they could be vindicative that way, I don’t know your friends, there is no judgement here). Truth be told, the people who put their foot in it are much closer to me than the ghosts that disappeared. Plus, given the aforementioned brain fog I had at the time, I can’t remember who said what anyway. What I clearly remember though, is who showed up.
#disability #chronicillness #cancer #freelancewriter #freelancestrategist #incurablecancer #livingwithcancer #workingwithcancer #strategist #freelancer
I am a freelance advertising creative, media and brand strategist with 25 years experience in the industry. 10-months post chemo, I am back taking on part-time projects and I have good availability from October, so please reach out if you think I might be able to help you and your team. I am also a writer, currently editing my first novel, before starting my second on 1st November. My clock is ticking after all. So if you want to inject some humour into your comms, my wordsmithing skills are also available.
Lynda with a Why 😁 Relentlessly curious 🤔 The research I do for organisations informs change in #construction #fuelpoverty and #climate. Both freelance and part time employed.
1yWonderful post, thank you for writing it. "None of us know our limits, until we are pushed to them." Ain't that the truth.
A superb read, beautifully written Stephanie Ressort. Love and hugs. ❤️
Marketing Leader | Performance Marketing | Operational Growth | Team Leader and Coach
1yThank you for sharing. I now know how I need to be. I dont know you but I wish you the best and please look after yourself.
Senior Business Change Partner at Stockport Homes Group#project management #people manager #volunteer #creative
1yThank you for this, Steph x A thought provoking read that I’ll share more widely. Take care of yourself x
This 💯 x 💯. Having spent much of the 2010s in Cancerland - myself and my lovely wife - as well as the occasional return visit - this rings really true. The sad truth is that there are some people who make your cancer about them and some even who run when Cancer is mentioned - they “can’t handle it” - which is sad, disappointing and hurtful but ultimately a blessing: you don’t want or need those people in your life. X