Oliver: Support can be key during cancer fight
Watching someone you care about go through a traumatic experience can be excruciating. Standing on the sidelines while a loved one suffers brings feelings of helplessness.
Those who have watched as a friend or family member has battled breast cancer probably know that all too well.
I’ve been on those sidelines twice now. It doesn’t get easier.
How best to help and to know what to say and do can be like trying to solve a math problem without a proper formula.
As one person’s cancer journey differs from another, so too do their needs.
My friend Tina was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer in July 2007. She’s already gone through six months of chemotherapy and six weeks of radiation.
So far, so good. She goes back for another checkup in December. But it will be 10 years before doctors can declare her in remission.
During the height of her fight, Tina didn’t want to talk about her cancer.
Oftentimes, well-meaning friends would focus on her health, much to her dismay.
“I wanted to make every day as normal as possible,” she said.
That meant she wasn’t comfortable wearing pink ribbons or drawing attention to herself.
“I was not going to be running around advertising that I have cancer,” Tina said. “I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me.”
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want anyone’s support. Far from it.
“It really helps you emotionally when you have good friends,” Tina said. “A hug. A smile. That’s a lot, especially when you don’t always feel like smiling.”
Her advice is to make yourself available and take your cues from your ailing friend.
A friend was there when Tina decided to shave her hair off rather than wait for it to fall off in clumps. Her family gathered for ice cream and cake.
“My kids were around me,” she said. “We made a party out of it.”
Also appreciated were the friends, dubbed the Chemo Club, who went with her to every chemotherapy appointment. Those treatments would take more than three hours.
“You’re sitting in this room for the first time and all these cancer patients are around you,” she said. “Some look like skeletons and some are bald.
“I cried that first day. It’s hard to sit there and think that might be me.”
Many of the women who were there at the clinic were alone, she said.
But Tina never was.
A friend always was at her side, even when the drugs would make her sleepy and she’d nod off.
“I was not there alone,” she said. “There was someone right there with me.”
So maybe it’s really that simple: Be there. Be a friend.
And if you don’t know what to do, just ask.
• Joan Oliver is a community editor for the Northwest Herald. She can be reached at 815-526-4552 or by e-mail at joliver@nwherald.com.
