My friend Jessica knew that I was having a lot of follow-up tests after my pre-surgical mammogram. She knew about my genetics, my mom, and my sister. And she's a planner and doer - her love language is acts of service. So, not surprisingly, her response to the news that I had cancer was…
I’m so sorry.
That sucks.
What do you need?
Jessica knows me well enough to guess what I might need, but I didn't know. Yet.
Turns out that whenever someone hears that someone they care about has cancer, their response is similar to Jessica's - how can I help? What can I do?
It's beautiful, well-intentioned and necessary…and overwhelming. With that first pitch, even experienced batters like me don't know what they need, when they'll need it, or who they want it from. Jessica even posted a Caring Bridge post asking people to wait (friends were emailing and texting her asking how they could help) until we had more information. Then, there would be ample opportunities to help me and my family.
You will know what you need from your community once you see the initial trajectory of your curveball and get a sense of the other pitches you'll see during treatment - your plan. Depending on your diagnosis, pathology, and stage, you may have treatment daily (radiation), weekly, every other week, every three weeks, or maybe monthly. Some treatments are oral and not infused. Some medicines have "pre-treatments," like my favorites IV Benadryl and Cinvanti/Emend. Some treatments require none, like my immunotherapy.
But you will need help. The cancer experience is long, tumultuous, and tiring, and you will see multiple off-speed pitches - curveballs, sinkers, and maybe even a knuckleball or slider. Plus, it's a gift to welcome help - your community will lend you their strength while you are expected to put your needs first. As someone usually the caregiver, it was uncomfortable to be the recipient. Like I said, I hate to be pitied. Being competent and self-sufficient in the face of whatever challenge is thrown at me is a core part of my identity. That wouldn't serve me in the batter's box. The help of friends and family from the dugout softens some jolts and twists from the off-speed pitches.
For my mother's breast cancer experiences, my parents didn't have community help. I don't know if it wasn't offered, they didn't hear it in their own trauma fog, or if they didn't accept. My dad was the chemo driver, and I was the supplemental cook. It was a lot for both of us.
For my sister's breast cancer, her community eagerly supported her, including shaving their heads (the men) and wearing wigs (the women) for her wedding. I don't remember who organized her army of care - I had just given birth to my second child and wasn't capable of doing it.
For my mother's bladder cancer (lots and lots of cancer curveballs in my family - that was in 2013), I set up a LotsaHelpingHands site for all their friends and family in Florida. Their community of 55+ easily used that tool (with a few exceptions that replied to me for tech support), and there were lots of supporters in Mom's dugout that increased her confidence at the plate.
For me - once I met my team, overcame the slide saga, and had a firm date for my first weekly chemo, Jessica set up a SignupGenius (it's free) and created opportunities for people to help. You want to do this using something other than email, calls, and text. Even if you are a military-grade logistics officer - there are too many people, and you need to focus your energy on your approach to smashing the curveballs.
While Jess created the SignUpGenius, I made two email lists using Google Sheets. List one was the extensive list of everyone who might want to help me. I was blown away throughout my treatment at the number of people who asked to be added to that list - parents at my daughter's high school, work colleagues, and old friends. List two was a shorter list of people I could ask to drive and visit during chemo. I was fortunate - my treatment center was only 15-20 minutes from my home, AND my daughter, who got her driver's license during my treatment, was incredibly resourceful about getting herself to and from school and extracurriculars, most of which were at her school. However, her school was 15 miles away.
It's easy to ask for help because most people will offer it before you can ask. Add them to your digital list. Write all your food preferences into a shareable doc (Google Docs - View Only mode) - foods you like, foods you do not like, and favorite restaurants with your usual orders. If someone has a unique culinary gift - explicitly ask them. Chemo can change your taste preferences; you likely need to avoid spicy and raw foods. So…if your preferences change, tell your Meal Train helper (and if you are doing it yourself, send an update using SignUpGenius messaging).
“Soup? Did I read soup?”
My dear friend Steve, who owns and operates a chain of soup restaurants, delivered 5-gallon bags of my favorite soups (during chemo, it was Curried Butternut Squash and Mexican Corn Chowder - both from Leaf and Ladle). I bought 1 cup paper containers with tops at Smart and Final to allocate my soup into frozen meal portions. Excellent.
My mom makes a delicious baked macaroni and cheese. It's not a dish I would typically eat or make because it's fattening. But during chemo, it was comfort food. Mom also makes "potted chicken" and enough to freeze some for easy, delicious, extra meals. Having a few favorites in the freezer is both comfortable and stress-reducing.
It may feel like people are rubbernecking when they ask what they can do - but it's not. 99.9% of people who know you genuinely want to do something to make this easier for you and your family. It will likely take you an hour or so to set things up so that people can help you without you becoming the quarterback. Stay tuned - the (almost) comprehensive list of ways people can help you is next.
Continue the story…
