6/27/13

How to tell a friend from a bum

I’ve discovered there is nothing like cancer to rid us of the riff raff in our lives.

And there is nothing like cancer to help us discover our true friends, like my friend Laura who scrambled me eggs post-chemo because it’s the only thing I could keep down. Or sweetly sat with me while my head was hanging over a trash basket waiting for the wave of nausea to subside. Or the friends who just do kind things without being asked. They just show up and do it. God love ‘em.

I think of my friend Susan who accompanied me to most of my chemo appointments. When I’d thank her, she’d look at me and sincerely say “it was nothing”.  Perhaps, but to me it was everything. I especially appreciated the picnic lunch she packed for one of our chemo adventures. We pull up to the cancer center, she opens her trunk, and takes out a picnic basket. It was full of wonderful homemade goodies that wouldn’t make me hurl.  I recall so clearly standing in the parking lot with her feeling so surprised and delighted at the absurdity of something so wonderful as a picnic in a chemo suite. That memory will stay with me forever because of the incredible thoughtfulness behind it.

I’ve been surprised – and not surprised – at the response I had from folks after announcing my diagnosis. I received support from very surprising places, and it made me enormously grateful. On the other hand, I received support in very self-serving ways from others. Never mind. I was so sick this time last year, I’d happily take support anywhere I could get it, no matter the agenda that came with it. Moving on.

I’ve also been surprised by the incredibly insensitive things some folks have said to me, although I’ll admit it did sometimes take a few minutes or a few days for the incredulousness to roll over me. Like the THREE people who looked me in the eye said to me “oh my wife/sister/friend died from that”.  Seriously?

Or the folks who said “at least they caught it early”. Like catching it early negatives the misery suffered for the last 18 months. The greatest benefit to catching it early is that it didn’t kill me. Yet.

And the one comment that always makes me blink twice “isn’t it great that you’re cured now?” Cured? For real? One is never cured from cancer like one can be cured of a sore throat. Especially if you have Triple Negative disease. I am not cured. I am in remission. Two very different things.

Still, insensitive comments and friends who did not behave as I might have thought they should really don’t make me angry. They make me shake my head or wonder why. Their attitudes are not my fault or my problem. However, I will admit to feeling a tad hurt that the ex-husband never once called to find out if I’d died yet. But really, after what I’ve been through, he seems like a life time ago.

My cancer experience has taught me many many things. One of the most important things is how to respond to a sick or grieving friend. I never say “call me if you need anything” anymore because I now know that puts the onus on the sick friend to actually pick up the phone if they need me, assuming they will actually put their pride in their back pocket to ask for help. I start thinking about what I can do to – in any small way – ease the situation. Dinner? Take out the trash before I leave? Check your mail?

And the one thing I can always be counted on for is a plate of homemade brownies. Brownies make everything better, according to my wonderful friend Trish who ministered not only to me, but to my dog. 
Friends don’t get any better than that.

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