This story seeks to increase awareness and understanding of the unique needs of individuals diagnosed with life-changing illness or injury and their families by providing insight into the life of a man as he went through diagnosis and treatment of brain cancer (Glioblastoma Multiforme - or GBM).
I'm taking an online grief class, and part of the focus of the class is to put together a collection of memories and pieces of information about the loved one who went on ahead. We have been given a list of fill-in-the-blank style questions to help in the information gathering process; the list includes things like favorite color, favorite subject in school, first job, hobbies, and words of wisdom. Some of it is easy for me to complete, some of it is hard to remember or to narrow down, and some of it I don't know.
It's the latter that really upsets me; it makes me think about just how sad it is that many of my dad's stories died along with him. Luckily, my mom and my siblings can fill in some of the information that I don't know, but, when they have exhausted their repertoire, that's all there is. And that hurts in a way that I didn't know existed before.
When my dad was in the hospital waiting for the surgery that resulted in his being officially diagnosed with cancer, he was very talkative, around the clock. Some of what he spoke about were things he was worried about, mainly my mom and his mom. He chatted about what he hoped to be able to do when he got out of the hospital. He asked about each of his grandchildren and said he could hardly wait to see them again. In between these conversations, though, he said a few things that were out of the blue and some that were out of context and maybe even out of the realm of what we could understand. One of those things he said was that he could see his dad, who had passed away years before, and a man whom he said was his "first preacher" from when he was a little boy and whom he said had a last name of Whitehead. According to my dad, he could see both of these men sitting at the end of a church pew. He didn't seem to know what they were doing or what else was going on in that scene, but it did seem to leave him a little unsettled.
Fast forward about 7 months later, after my dad and then his mom (my grandmother) both had gone on ahead, and my extended family on my dad's side had gathered for a memorial service for my grandmother in her hometown in Alabama, which is where my dad grew up. I asked several of the people who had known my dad as a child, including his brother, if they remembered a preacher by the name of Whitehead, and they all said they did not recognize the name. The story remains a mystery, and the fact that it probably always will bothers me, a lot. I wish I could hold onto every bit of my dad that ever was, every memory and every fact, even those that I didn't know yet. I guess there is a kind of grief for the loss of those things that comes along with the grief of the loss of a loved one, too,yet another thing that I wish I didn't have to know.
During the ten weeks my dad was sick and in the months since he went on ahead, I have been touched by the people who have reached out to me in some way in an attempt to comfort me in my grief.Before my own very personal loss, I really had no idea what to say or do when someone I knew was grieving.I tried, but I’m sure now that I missed the mark in at least some cases.I didn’t know, as I am sure some people with whom I have come into contact since my own loss also don’t.
Every loss, every person who is grieving, and every situation is different, and so the words and actions that may be appropriate in one case may not in another. However, I have learned that in general there are some things that are often said in an effort to comfort someone that might truly be comforting, some that can be improved upon, and some that are really not so effective.
Someone told me at one point while Dad was sick after I had commented about the way he kept asking for candy that she’d heard that sugar “feeds” cancer cells. “Maybe it’s the cancer asking for the candy, not your dad,” she said. Armchair medical advice, either during the illness or after the fact: not helpful.
A couple of months after Dad died, someone I know implied that she’d known from the time he was diagnosed that he wouldn’t survive, and then she added, “I kept wanting to tell you, but you were so caught up in the whole thing.” Nope, not helpful – in fact, if you feel the need to say something like this that belittles or second-guesses the hope and/or the decisions made while someone’s loved one was ill, you should seriously consider ducking for the punch that is very likely coming your way.
One of the things that completely pisses me off now is when someone who has heard about my dad’s battle with brain cancer and subsequent death and then feels the need to tell me other stories about people with cancer. “My aunt’s best friend had cancer too, and she really had a hard time with the chemo before she got better,” someone actually said to me recently. Um, no, you do NOT want to get into a contest with me about suffering or loss or anything else related, and it is not at all comforting to tell me that the person you know survived what my dad could not. It's not that I can't stand to hear about someone else who has or has had cancer; I am very well aware that this horrible disease is out there and that much of what my family went through wasn't unique. I just don't appreciate it when this kind of information is presented to me in such a way that it seems like a one-up pissing contest.
I’ve heard the statement “I know just how you feel” at least several dozen times over the past 18 months or so, and, for the record, this is a claim that cannot possibly be true. Hell, the majority of the time, even I don’t know exactly how I feel in regards to my loss (Lost? Angry? Sad? Scared? Scarred? And the list goes on and on!), so there is no way in hell someone else can know! A statement like that seems condescending in a way, like my grief and my feelings aren’t that important or special; it doesn’t feel supportive, at least not to me.
Any “at least” statements that may be on the tip of your tongue should be squelched immediately: It is NEVER a good idea to say “At least you had many years together,” “At least he didn’t suffer for too long,” or “At least you got to say goodbye.” Doing so minimizes the loss and makes it seem like the person who is grieving isn’t grateful enough. Most grievers realize the fact that IT COULD ALMOST ALWAYS HAVE BEEN WORSE, but we are also deeply aware that things could’ve turned out better. We need to feel what we feel, not to have our emotions second-guessed or judged, even in an implied fashion.
“Be strong” is another one that really gets to me, whether it is said to me or to someone else in an effort to comfort. I keep wanting to say, “Why???” I think it’s good NOT to be strong some of the time; I think that grief that isn’t let out WILL at some point become illness of some type. When someone tells me to be strong, I feel like yet another burden or responsibility - one that I will not be able to live up to - has been thrust upon me, which, obviously, isn't helpful or comforting.
In my opinion, it’s also a good idea to tread lightly concerning issues of spirituality; it is not unusual for a person to question his or her belief system in the face of tragedy, and in some cases a message based on your convictions may not only not match up with the feelings of the bereaved but may actually invoke negative emotions, despite your intentions. Here are some commonly used expressions and some examples of possible reactions to illustrate what I’m talking about:
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” -- Um, WHAT?? So, following that logic, should we all be wishing to ALMOST be killed?
“God may not give you what you want in life, but he will give you what you need." -- Did I NEED my loved one to suffer? To die?
“People are only given what they are strong enough to handle.” -- Does this mean if I were weaker my loved one would have survived? Wow, talk about guilt and confusion!
Even the simple “It was God’s will” can be viewed as not that helpful or even dismissive and inflammatory; many people who have witnessed the suffering often involved in a terminal illness in particular may have trouble believing or accepting that their loved one’s pain and death were part of a plan. Personally, when people have said, “He’s in a better place now” to me since my dad died, I still want to scream, “But he loved it here and I know he wanted to stay longer!” Hearing this statement, I do NOT feel that my grief is being addressed; I feel like the person is implying that I should be glad my dad got sick and died. Nope. Not comforting, at least not to me.
Personally, I can only view statements like this as "bullshitty."
One thing often said to people who are grieving that I’ve mentioned before is “Time heals all wounds.” I won’t get into my issues with that one again right now, but just suffice to say, nope, not helpful.
These comments may serve to comfort some individuals, but they can also play a role in minimizing the loss and may even seem to suggest that the griever shouldn't be grieving. This is not the time for a theological discussion or to try to convert someone over to your own beliefs. In some cases, you may choose to follow the person’s lead in discussing religious beliefs, but, as I said, I suggest sensitivity and proceeding with extreme caution in any case.
Something that I learned during my dad’s illness is that, even as well-meaning as general offers for help likely are, saying things like “Let me know if you need anything” or “Keep me updated on his condition” are not really that helpful when the family is dealing with extreme stress and/or grief. Statements like these actually put the burden on the person who is already overwhelmed with trying to cope with a crisis. A concrete offer of help like “I’m going to the grocery store tomorrow and would love to pick up anything that’s on your list too” or an expression of concern that does not require a response on their part are much better. During my time of need, a friend of mine text-messaged me daily to let me know she was thinking about me, and each time she added, “No need to respond,” which let me off the hook from having to thank her or to give her an update if I didn’t have time or the inclination to talk.
Here’s one of the biggest blunders I’ve experienced in my own grief: having someone ignore my loss/pretend like it didn’t happen. I think some people do this because they aren’t sure what to say, and in some cases they may think that bringing up the subject may upset the person who is grieving. Take it from me: grief and loss are one huge elephant in the room; they may be able to be avoided, but they really cannot effectively be completely ignored. In my opinion and experience, it’s better to say something that’s not perfectly phrased than to say nothing at all. The person who is grieving is ALWAYS thinking about their loved one on some level, and it won’t make them sadder to have their loss acknowledged. It very likely will, however, be upsetting or offensive to not have anything mentioned because the person will then feel like their loss has been forgotten or ignored or that you don't care about them or their loss.
What’s MOST helpful if you knew the person who has died is to share a story or a memory about them. In letting the person who is grieving know that their loved one left an impression on you if that is the case, you will let them know that their loss matters, that they are not alone, and that their loved one will live on in memories other than their own.
What should you say if you didn’t know the person who died or if you don’t have a story to share about their loved one? My recommendation is something empathetic, something that validates their loss, something that lets them know that they are not alone. Any of these will work:
"I can't imagine how painful it must be to lose someone you love so much."
“I know she would be so proud of you.”
Or just the simple, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
If nothing else comes to mind, it’s ok to say you don’t know what to say or that you will be thinking about them or something else non-specific like that. It may not necessarily be original, but if it is something that is spoken with consideration and from the heart, it will serve its purpose.
I’m pleased to share the following guest blog post by David Haas, who contacted me recently to ask about contributing to this blog.I fully agree with David’s remarks about the need for emotional support for those who have or who have had cancer, and I will add that I personally have also experienced great benefit from grief support groups and grief counseling services since my dad went on ahead.
Besides support groups and individual counseling sessions, emotional support for individuals with cancer and their families can come from social networking – in cancer-specific formats like The Cancer Buddies Network (www.cancerbuddiesnetwork.org) and general formats like Facebook – as well as from friends and family members.Obviously, it can be helpful to get the appropriate emotional support during treatment (Sadly, my dad’s team certainly fell short in this area, and he suffered because of it.), and it can be equally important to get it after the treatment is over or, as in my case, when dealing with grief after a death of a loved one.Certainly any type of cancer can bring about the need for support, and, like David and many others, I encourage anyone who is dealing with Cancer to seek out those services as needed.
And now I will hand off the Talking Stick to our guest, David Haas:
The Benefits Of Emotional Support Networks For Cancer Survivors
The need for emotional support does not end when the cancer treatment ends. Cancer survivors need as much support after cancer as they did during treatment. Emotional support systems can help people manage their challenges during any stage of cancer. And they are vital for improving quality of life.
What Is Emotional Support And Where Does It Come From?
Emotional support systems are more than just a concept. They are the people, organizations, and programs that help individuals through cancer. Cancer survivors need many types of support: emotional, social, spiritual, medical, financial, and legal. Emotional support systems are especially beneficial because they provide encouragement, comfort, and assistance during a difficult time.
Many people and groups make up an emotional support system. Family members, friends, health professionals like the doctor or the oncologist, neighbors, colleagues, faith leaders, and other cancer survivors -- all of these people can answer a cancer survivor’s need for support. But survivor networks may be the most valuable support of all. Here are some online support systems that have proved to be very beneficial:
Cancer survivor networks consist of people who have “been there” and “done that.” They understand cancer better than a doctor or loved one, because they have fought the battle and survived.
Talking or writing about cancer -- and all the feelings, frustrations, and fears it stirs up -- is an important part of the healing process, even after treatment. Cancer survivors often heal best with the help of emotional support systems like survivor groups.
Cancer survivors can find support in-person and online. Local support groups often meet in hospitals, churches, and homes. Group members share stories, resources, advice, and encouragement with other cancer survivors.
Online communities allow cancer survivors to interact over the Internet, and anonymity is optional. In fact, online groups are the best option for some people, who find support in blog posts, discussion forums, chat rooms, instant messages, and email communication.
The Benefits Of Support Networks
A study by the California Breast Cancer Research Program examined the effectiveness of online support groups for breast cancer survivors, with encouraging results. Women who participated in electronic support groups were better able to cope with anxiety, depression, and pain. They were also more optimistic and expressed a zeal for life.
While the study looked specifically at breast cancer survivors, support groups are likely to have similar effects whether a person has prostate cancer, mesothelioma, or other malignancy. And support is helpful whether it comes in the form of a local group or online community.
Each person’s cancer journey is unique, and each survivorship is different. The emotional support of doctors, family members, friends, and co-workers is essential. But encouragement from the people, who have battled cancer and won, is often the best emotional support of all.