There are plenty of positive things to say to a cancer patient.
Hearing that someone you know has been diagnosed with cancer makes for a completely crappy day. It’s a heck of a buzz kill.
But just imagine for a moment that it was you who heard that you have cancer.
Imagine you were merrily moving through life, thinking, as I did right before my stage 4 colon cancer diagnosis, that life couldn’t get better, that you couldn’t be healthier, that you had the world by the tail. Imagine going to the ER with a stitch in your side. Giving yourself over to a battery of invasive tests and needles, being poked and prodded by strangers, left to wonder what’s happening in cold rooms with bad television. Wearing an unattractive gown.
Imagine craving a chile relleno burrito and being told instead to drink this potion that will have you on the toilet for the next ten hours, emptying your gut so you can have a colonoscopy. Imagine having a roommate who simpers in pain when the nurse is present and then lets loose a loud string of profanities on her cell phone when he leaves the room to get her pain meds (that’s an entire other story, but just a piece of the loveliness of my original hospital stay when I was diagnosed).
Most of all, imagine the fear of the unknown.
And then think about the words you might like to hear more than anything else.
I know personally that you wouldn’t want to hear, “Well, it could be worse.”
Regardless of your diagnosis, whether it’s Stage 1 or Stage 3(c) or Stage 4, here’s the truth of the moment: For you, if could NOT be worse.
I’m sure most people would agree that they would never in a million years use that phrase. But I’ve also learned that when friends and family find themselves without words, in their search for something positive and reassuring, thinking they’re helping, they sometimes say to a cancer patient (me), “Well, it could be worse.”
No, my friend, this is the day (week, month, year) when I’ve just been told I have the absolute worst diagnosis I could have imagined. And you saying it could be worse only makes me wish for the tiniest second that you had it so that you could feel the way I feel.
There’s a caveat here: I’m not saying that a different diagnosis wouldn’t be equally devastating. ALS, Parkinson’s, MS, and a myriad of other diagnoses would all be overwhelming. And I hope no one is telling those folks, “Hey, it could be worse. You could have cancer!”
But for the cancer patient in that moment, don’t say, “It could be worse.”
Because it couldn’t be worse. They don’t know what they’re facing. They’re afraid. This is really the worst day of their lives so far.
What to say instead? Try these lines, but only if you mean them:
“I’m sorry this happened.”
“I don’t know how you feel.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What would you like for me to pray for?”
And most of all, this one:
“How can I help?”
When you say the last one, have a plan for when they say that yes, you can help. Ask for a specific way you can help. If they can’t think of anything, offer to buy Uber Eats cards, or to have their house professionally cleaned on a day when they’ll be out at an appointment. Arrange to take their dog for a walk every morning when they don’t feel like it.
Offer to drop meals off on their porch or to take their laundry out for washing and folding. Pay to have their windows washed (exterior only unless they’ll be away). Say you’ll set up their CaringBridge account so that when (if) they feel like it, they can let their world know how they’re feeling.
Just don’t ever say, “It could be worse,” thinking that you’re being helpful. Because at that moment, it couldn’t be worse.
Stay tuned for more. I’m not an expert at much, but I seem to have become an expert at how NOT to help a cancer patient. Here’s a link to a prior post about what no cancer patient ever wants to hear.
If you’ve found yourself in the same place, I’d love to hear what you wish someone HADN’T said to you.