Helping Your Friends With the Big C

I’ve learned a lot, mostly what not to do

I recently received a call that began with, “I have some bad news.” If you live long enough, you start getting more and more of these. I recognize they’re a part of aging, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

The call was from one of my two closest friends.

Lea is someone with incredible talent I discovered while she was a journalism student 25 years ago. Even though she had zero experience, I talked management into letting her join my morning radio show as my news person. She would go on to be successful in New York and Los Angeles.

Despite our 20-year age difference, we forged a bond that’s never broken, even with her living 2,000 miles away.

She called to tell me she had lymphoma.

She had gone through several tests and a second opinion before letting her friends know what was happening.

It was hitting her hard. Of course, it was. The Big C is bad news at any age but at 42? Way too young in my book.

It’s only been a year since I received a similar call from Dennis, my other close friend, whom I met in middle school 52 years ago. He had been diagnosed with prostate cancer.

Even though I’ve never had it, cancer is somewhat of an old adversary. For my 30-year radio career, my main fundraisers were always for cancer research.

Because of this, I’ve talked to and interviewed hundreds of doctors and patients.

Plus, my father died of leukemia, and my mother-in-law and her sister died from lung cancer. Like I said, an old adversary.

I’m not going to get maudlin here. There’s no need to, certainly not right now, because cancer is not always the death sentence it was 50 years ago. Effective treatments are being developed and improved every day.

It will also help that Lea already eats well and is in excellent physical shape, which could make a difference depending on her treatment.

With all this connection to cancer, I’ve learned a bit about how to help my friends and family, especially the things you shouldn’t do.

For example, please don’t assume you know how they feel or that you can imagine it. You can’t.

Many have given me descriptions of the day they learned the news. They’ve described the shock, the disbelief, the anger, the anxiety, and the tears. Despite this, I still know I can’t imagine it and would never say so. Please don’t say you do unless you’ve gone through it.

Don’t say, “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, let me know,” unless you absolutely mean it. I’ve had more than one person tell me when they did need help and wanted to take up a friend on the offer, they heard crickets.

I told Lea what I told Dennis: I would be on the next plane if she asked, and she knows me well enough to know I will do it.

Please keep checking in with your C friend regularly, and keep doing it. Everyone shows love and support at first, but three months later, those pesky crickets start chirping again.

Is it awkward at first? Absolutely. You spend a lot of time dancing around the elephant in the room. This often keeps people from reaching out, but suck it up, buttercup, and call.

It gets easier the more often you talk. Cancer may still come up, but soon, you’ll have regular conversations, which your C friend may need.

You need to know your limits and express them if you need to.

By this, I mean be honest if you can’t handle the messy stuff. If bodily fluids and other ickiness are a problem, don’t pretend they aren’t. It does not mean you’re a terrible friend. There are plenty of different ways to help.

My wife struggled with this when her mom needed home hospice care. I am not squeamish, while she is. I did not think less of my wife when she asked if I could help provide the care her mom needed.

Don’t do research on the internet.

Lea’s oncologist strongly advised against it, and I agree with her logic. She said there are 78 types of lymphoma. How do you know which one to look up? Do you understand the genetic makeup of your C friend and the cancer cells in regard to treatments? All Mr. Google will do is scare the bejeebers out of everyone.

Don’t look for random answers. Instead, find helpful resources like the American Cancer Society.

Learn to just listen. Learn the signs of depression. Learn where to get help.

Most of all, be the friend you would want them to be if this was happening to you.

One final note: Dennis has finished his treatment and is now clear. He will always have to deal with a couple of consequences, but he says in the grand scheme of things, he’ll take them.