(no subject)

[ljgeoff]

I got some bad news today and I'm not sure how to act about it -- Mike's partner Jerry has been diagnosed with colon cancer.

What the hell do you say to someone who's been diagnosed with cancer? Christ.

He is dear to me because he's dear to Mike, and he has always treated me very lovingly. I just have no clue what to do. Everything that I think of just sounds lame.

Jerry's partner Dawn is a nurse, and is also a cancer survivor. My gut instinct is to write something but I'm somewhat paralyzed by knowing that anything I say will be so totally inadequate. But I know that if it was me with cancer, I'd be happy to get simple words of encouragement, and I'm pretty sure that Jerry would be too.

Maybe I'm just too damn tired to think, right now.

Comments

[johnpalmer.livejournal.com]

I'd say that you can probably say anything to someone who has been diagnosed with cancer... and it's probably better to say almost anything than to say nothing.

I mean, there are obvious things not to say ("do you think maybe God is punishing you for your sins? You should turn to Jesus before it's too late!" is going to be bad) but sick folks aren't fragile (any more than anyone else is) even if they are under a lot of stress.

Asking how they're doing, and being willing to let them talk, or not, is good.

So far, my experience with really sick people is that you don't want to bullshit them (don't tell them "you look good!" when they look like hell and know it. But "you look good, all things considered" isn't generally bad).

And in my opinion, a willingness to be close, or touch (handshake, hug, etc.), can be helpful. I've heard a lot of sick folks notice people keeping their distance, like it's contagious.

One last thing: if anyone's suffering a really serious illness, realize that this can be a huge financial burden as well. It may not matter and may not come up, but it's something that I think folks should think about, because sometimes they can help out, maybe even in just minor ways.

[submarine-bells.livejournal.com]

I'd go with something like "Wow, that sucks. Is there anything I can do to help, or that would be cheering?" That's the sort of responses I've really appreciated when I've been diagnosed with Yucky Stuff in the past. But honestly, just about anything vaguely sympathetic is likely better than not responding for fear of saying the wrong thing, even if the best you can come up with is "I'm sorry to hear that." Don't worry about sounding hackneyed - there's a good reason that those sorts of phrases are cliches. It's because they're good things to say.

[lissamc.livejournal.com]

My sister just this week finished up her last chemo treatment for colon cancer. As long as the cancer hasn't spread, this one is readily beatable. I suspect the next step for him will be checking to see just how far along the cancer is. Once you know that, you know what the game plan will be.

When my sister was diagnosed, I took some time wandering across the web to familiarize myself with the disease. Once I did that, I was able to listen to her, and to help calm my family's fears. I let her know that I was there to support her, no matter what. I offered to fly across the country to help with the kids if that was needed. Knowing that she hadn't turned into some sort of unclean pariah seemed to help.

Do your homework on the disease. Listen with knowledge. And just be there.

*Hugs* to all who want them.

[elissaann.livejournal.com]

In a get-well letter, Miss Manners recommends sending your wishes. I don't think you can go wrong with that.

I have several girlfriends who were diagnosed with cancer. I think what I said when they told me was, "That sucks." And then I asked them to let me know if they ever needed company on the way to or from an appointment.

[ljgeoff.livejournal.com]

Thanks, all. I'll write something today - something simple. Reading your responses has made me feel kinda weepy, because they were simple and heartfelt too. Yous guys rock.

[anansi133.livejournal.com]

First time I read this, I couldn't think of anything to say. This time around, I wonder if I'd mentioned that P. was in the midst of a bad cancer process when I first met her, so I know how hard it is to be present with someone during that.

ouch.