There's something that is heavy on my heart lately. So I’m just gonna write about it here and get it out. I'm totally purging my heaviness on you. Gross. You would think I have some inkling of what to say to someone when they are seriously sick and scared. Come to find out, I have no idea.
My dear friend’s hubby, who I now consider a friend, is sick. He’s been through a month long hospital stay, the loss of a gallbladder, and now some serious presentations that look like neuropathy, but no diagnosis yet. He is in extreme pain. A slow, simple movement makes him grunt. But he’s a man’s man too and doesn’t want to talk about it. He is afraid.
He reads my blogs. I think in some ways he trusts me with his sick because he is so familiar, even loyal, to mine. But (here comes the big but), I blew it. I reached out to him and he timidly responded and I didn’t know what to say when he said he was scared. I had this little space; this tiny little opening in the door; totally enough space to stick a bare foot in and I blew it. I’ve spent a year and a half judging people for what I considered either their inconsiderate and cold reactions, or the super dramatic reactions. I was so overwhelmed by my own judgments of how they should have reacted. Super funny that now that it is my turn I still have no clue what to say to someone when they are scared and sick and no one knows the depths of what is going on.
I think if my friend were religious I would have had an easier time. For my friends who don’t believe, there are certain things we approach together hand in hand (like funerals and sickness) and it stops us. We hit a wall. A friend of mine passed a few months ago, and my one friend was very close to him. He sobbed. He was devastated. He doesn’t believe in God or ever afters. I didn’t know how to console him without them.
My theories and approaches to understanding these things rest on God, so I’m totally and utterly lost when a friend is struggling and I can’t go there. I don’t know where else to go. I stop. The dialogue ends. And it sucks.
I have gathered a few tidbits here. They are kind of random, but here goes:
You can’t tell someone how to react to your news. Nuff said. If someone upsets you with their way off the wall remark (i.e. You have MS? SUCKS FOR YOU). Let it go. Holding on only hurts you. Like my good friend Kristin Cifelli says, “Love is the benefit of the doubt.” Give them that. The people who said the dumbest things to me when they first got wind of my diagnosis, turned out to be the ones who were really good at being there for me.
Never say, “Oh well, it’s only…” Cancer. MS. A cold. Whatever. Rude. Rude. Rude. It minimizes something that is very BIG to them, especially if it is new. You may think you are looking on the bright side, but they will see you as minimizing their pain. I yelled at my friend when I was crying about the gauge of a needle I had to give myself (intramuscular, ouch) and he poo poo’d the gauge. “It’s not THAT big.” I went ballistic on him.
Don’t act like it is a death sentence. You don’t want to act like the person is dying tomorrow either. That could send them into some dizzying, terrifying, icky places. Places they are more than capable of going on their own-don’t feed that fire. There is enough fear in the world. We are good.
So, you want to walk a line between the two. So here is the line—I am sorry my friend and if you ever need anything, just say the word. If and when they reach out, you take your cues from them. They will lead you. I think less is more at first. Until you get a feel for what they want or need.
To my friend who is sick--hang on my friend. Sometimes the marathon is in finding a diagnosis. The hardest part may be behind you. And if you ever need anything, I'm your man. And I promise I won't blog about it.
