A couple of caveats before I begin:
- This post is definitely not intended as a request that anyone do anything for me. I am amazing lucky with the warmth and support of so many friends and relatives. It also helps that I have run up a great big red flag with this blog. I get all I need.
- I cannot speak for all sick or bereaved people. Some people don't want to talk about their problems with anyone, so you really have to know your audience.* But I think most people who are going through serious difficulties have them at the top of their minds nearly all the time and feel lonely when everyone else tiptoes around them. So ask (most of the time).
1. Ask "How are you doing?"
This question can fall flat sometimes, like the time I asked the question of the terminally ill mother of a friend. But, mostly, I think, people are happy to be asked.**
I would qualify this, though. If you are not family or a close friend, asking by e-mail or social media may actually be an imposition, because the sick or bereaved person may feel obliged to respond with energy and time that they don't really have. Asking in person is good though.
2. Condolences
It's hard to go wrong with this one. It's really easy to do in the age of e-mail and social media. Just that little gesture brightens the gloom. The more, the better.
3. Visits
These have to be done carefully. Sometimes, someone feels so tired and ill that they just want to sleep. It is safest to ask first. Be careful not overstay your welcome.
Sometimes, for the right person, a surprise visit may work. For instance, one of my best friends, G, whose sense of humor is very much like mine, was in the hospital after a major abdominal surgery for bowel perforation. A day or two after the operation was her birthday. So, I recruited 10 of her friends, and showed up in her hospital room (along with a couple of medical residents who tagged along at the last minute) and sang her 'Happy Birthday.' She cracked hard, but when she watched us start eating the cake, she wanted to vomit, so she kicked us out. So, if you do this, leave the cake at home.
4. Offers to help
Abstract offers to help are fine, but let's be honest, usually they are kind gestures, but just that.
On the other hand, noticing what is actually needed (rather that expecting that the sick person will tell you what they need) and offering to help in a concrete way can be really great. People in crisis are tired and stressed. When you are ill or distraught, sometimes the basics of everyday life can be burdensome.
For instance, Cousin MK, and family friend MA drove me back and forth to my radiation treatments in 2005. SB*** and ND brought me and my family delicious food. Our upstairs neighbors, L and J took care of Little Lord Chaos (now known as the Professor) on those several occasions when K/BWE had to whisk me to the emergency room for some dumb infection or ridiculous stroke. My excellent guitar teacher, S, visited me and gave me guitar lessons in the hospital during chemotherapy. Just recently, when I was recovering from my recent surgery, JR and ND let me sleep on their couch while my maniac dog, Willow, got to tear around their yard.
You don't need to make a grand gesture. Just an errand taken off check list or a moment to rest is appreciated.
5. It's not over when it's over.
For me, the most difficult times have been after the crises have passed. During a crisis, one has a clear mission to get treated, and everyone rallies around them. But life is not back to normal even when the obvious drama is over. Physical and/or emotional healing is hard. It's like coming home from a war. Be there for them.
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All of these things are a comfort. You should never feel bad if you don't have the time to go above and beyond. You do what you can.
Be well,
Tom.
P.S. I have had more helpers than I can count. To name a few, I thank:
My parents and extended family (one of whom, DW, has been a surrogate parent and is helping me turn this blog into a book), K/BWE's family, the Professor, and, of course (and the comic relief he provided as Little Lord Chaos), and K/BWE, my wife, my caregiver, and champion. She is always there for me, always asks the doctors the questions I forget to ask, and pushes me to go to the hospital when I stubbornly insist there is nothing wrong.
And HBW, TD, KD, ND, AR, MS, EJ, DR, BF, JR, ND and JG just for for being there for me.
And childhood friend and massage therapist TK who has given me free massages in 2016 after I was erroneously told I was going to die within 2 years**** and in the current crisis. It's very consoling when you think you may die soon, and that's all you can think about.
And friends GK, RW, and HW, who have given me refuges (the latter two overnight many, many times) in the Big Fruit.
And I will always be grateful to my school for accommodating my first cancer and the two years of rigorous treatments I had between 1981 and 1983. And to my medical residency director R and, later, my infectious diseases fellowship director H. And to the managers and chiefs at my medical practice who have accommodated me, and the many colleagues who have stood in for me over and over again.
And H, who came all the way back from Germany to help care for a sick boy.
And geology teacher T and classmates BB and AP (am I remembering everybody?) for helping me out of the Appalachian wilderness when I got a fever with a white count of zero on the middle school camping trip. I probably would have died if you hadn't done that.
And EM, who is helping me realize a long-deferred aspiration.
And many more than I can name.
And to all who read and who respond to this blog. I am a ham. Part of the way I make illness tolerable is to turn it into performance art and get attention to preen my ego. So, thanks to everybody who is reading this, anyone commenting here or commenting or liking on Facebook. You are a helper too. And I lied a little. I would like you to spread this blog. More is more.
Be well,
Tom
* Of course, I'm kind of easy to read on this. I am quite flamboyant with my bad news.
** I scored some serious points with my future wife before we knew each other very well. I had heard that her father had passed away. Even though we barely knew each other then, when I saw her next, I expressed my condolences and asked her how she was doing. It definitely counted as a point in my favor a couple of years later when we started dating.
*** At the time, I didn't know that mason jars aren't supposed to be thrown out after you use them. Sorry SB.
**** It's been almost 3 years, suckers!
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