Three weeks

ago, we seemed like a normal family.  Despite that we had just moved across the country and that my husband was deployed to the Middle East for a year, everything was going swimmingly.  Then one day afternoon, two days after having a biopsy for a suspicious lump in my breast (I found upon self-examination), my world turned upside down.  The words I never, ever thought I would hear hurtled over the phone lines to me:  "I'm sorry, but you have breast cancer."  I was stunned beyond belief  and am still trying to come to terms with how our lives have been irrevocably altered.

We have had a family blog for quite some time, and my first instinct was to blog the news.  This turned out to be quite cathartic, and I have kept it up and plan to keep doing so for the foreseeable future. I quickly learned how different it is to be on the other end of the spectrum.  I have dealt with illnesses and death of friends and family members, and until now always assumed I had the perfect or at least acceptable phrases for the occasion.  It wasn't until my recent diagnosis that I realized just how even the phrasing of one's reaction to the news that your friend or relative has cancer can affect them. 

Since I am still in the very early stages of dealing with this disease, it seems appropo for me to tackle the subject of  "What to say" and "What not to say" to the newly diagnosed.  It might seem as the most natural answer is the best.  Perhaps you are a breast cancer survivor and really do have a very good idea of how the person might feel.  However, until you are in that person's exact situation, it is very hard to guage how this news is affecting them.  With that in mind, I have come up with a key phrases that can be tweaked just a bit to really let the concern you feel show through.    

1.  Instead of this:   It's only a breast.

No, it's not.  It is a part of my body.  Whether I have always liked its size or shape, it has always been a body part that I have very much appreciated.  Yes, it may be a sexual object, but I also used it to nurture and feed my three children.  I am still nursing my youngest (he is 2.5) so it has not outlived its usefulness in the slightest.  I really cringe at the notion that I should suddenly want to toss away a part of my body that I have always enjoyed having.  It is a loss and I do need to mourn it.

Try:  I'm really sorry.  I can't imagine how you must feel right now.  

The above is an open, honest answer.  I don't expect you to know how devastated I am, but appreciate the non-judgemental concern.

2.  Instead of:  You must be really overwhelmed.  Please let me know what I can do to help.

There is nothing wrong with this statement at all, unless you happen to run into a stubborn, self-assured future cancer treatment patient who still thinks she can do it all herself.  I have quickly learned that I can't.  Just having a doctor's appointment in the morning can wear me out for the day, especially since life goes on in every other respect.

Try (no, DO):  I am bringing you chicken noodle soup, and I will include salad and a dessert.  I just need to verify you prefer that over pasta and there are no allergy concerns.  How does Tuesday work for a drop-off?

I had plenty of offers for help, but didn't realize at first how much I needed them.  Then one friend very kindly insisted she was bringing us dinner THAT DAY.  She easily saved us two nights of cooking.  I have since come around and realize that it's okay to ask for assistance in a time such as this one.

3.  Rather than:  In a few years, you will forget this ever happened!

I will never forget this time period.  Due to the nature of my husband's career in the U.S. Foreign Service, this has irrevocably changed much for us for at least the next two years.   I am having trouble imagining making it through all of my appointments this week, and next year is completely out of the picture.

Try:  Take it minute by minute.  Don't try to imagine the future, congratulate yourself for taking each day as it comes.

"Take it minute by minute" is a piece of invaluable advice given to me by a friend who has dealt with something similar.  Given all of the decisions we have to make, trying to envision beyond next week is simply too difficult.

4.  Instead of:  If I were you, I would have you asked my doctor about this treatment! Why woudln't you want scary treatment x, y or z??

I certainly understand these questions.  What person does not want to be strong for their friend, offer him or her the best possible advice and prove to them how easy it is to be firm in one's conviction?  The only problem is that with cancer, it is very hard to know the "right thing" to do, when there are so many conflicting (and, yes, scary) sources of information.  

Try this:  Just listen.

Don't feel you have to have all of the answers or even any of them.  If you really ache to be supportive, but can't find the right words, say so.  Offer that if you friend needs an ear, you can't tell them what to do, but are more than happy to be an outlet for venting.  Sometimes just getting a huge amount off one's chest with nothing more than a "that must be hard" in return, is a huge relief.

5.  Instead of this: I wanted to call, but can't think of anything to say.

No one really knows what to say.  Even this advice here may not be on target for everyone.  Every person is different and giving your best shot is all you can do.

Try this:  I wasn't sure what to say, but wanted to call and let you know I am thinking of you.   By the way, did you hear the news about…?

I am not advocating gossip or anything similar.  However, especially if your friend has missed work or recreational events, she may not be caught up on fun news.  The bonus?  It's a distraction for her. She may even continue to angle the conversation away from her health as she knows that life goes on and would really like to know what's going on in your world.