But honestly, since this whole ordeal began, I've realized that I am friends with some super amazing people - both far away and local (and if you are reading this, chances are that you are one of them. :)) While it kind of sucks that it took a stupid cancer to drive this point home, it is better than getting to this point and realizing that in addition to having cancer, you have no friends. I have had some very intense moments in the past six weeks, which has changed my relationship for the better with a lot of people, including my husband (not that our relationship was bad, it is just a little different now... in a good way). I mean, even if I weren't having surgery on Wednesday, it would still be fun to have drinks with friends on Tuesday night, but it's not something I would normally arrange to do, so... silver linings.
And because this is the way my mind works, while I'm extremely grateful for the outpouring of support I've gotten, I'm also feeling kind of guilty. It reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry gives an unlimited gift certificate to a hair clinic to a friend with cancer, only it turns out the friend doesn't actually have cancer, but doesn't tell anyone because people were so generous when they thought he had cancer (though I can assure you that I really do have cancer lol). But my guilt is not just because I'm feeling like a freeloading deadbeat - some of it is because I am a recovering Catholic, ha - it is also because my experience now is making me feel like I might not have been the greatest friend/colleague in the past. For example, when I was in graduate school, one of the women I worked with a lot ( = not a close friend, but a close colleague, one with whom I talked to at length pretty much every day), told me that she had had breast cancer in her early 20s. She was in her 30s when we worked together, and was about 10 years post-cancer, but I realize in retrospect that I totally blew this off, not really realizing what a hugely traumatic ordeal it must be to have breast cancer when you are 24 with young children. I am almost 100% positive I probably said something stupid, considering that all I really remember when she told me this is that I was staring at her chest trying to figure out if her boobs were real. (And unfortunately, even though this might sound humorous, I'm embarrassed to admit that I am not kidding at all.)
I have since moved away, but this woman and I remain friends on Facebook. A few years ago, she posted that she had a recurrence of her breast cancer, and ended up opting to have a bilateral mastectomy. Although she isn't a close friend, she is actually the very first person I thought of when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I actually went to great lengths to go back two years on Facebook to make sure I hadn't written anything stupid when she shared this news. Fortunately I hadn't, but at the same time, I didn't say or do any of the things that people have said or done for me that were the most helpful and comforting. And I regret that. Of course, I didn't know any better; how could I? At the same time, when you are the one going through the ordeal, you don't really stop to divide your friends into 'amazing friends' and 'people who could probably be amazing friends if they knew better.' Given that I'm pretty sure I fit into the latter category, I'm amazed at how many amazing friends I have. How do they know what is helpful and comforting when I myself don't even know it until someone does it?
I spent all day at work Skype-interviewing potential candidates for what is essentially the equivalent of my job. Jobs in academia, like many other things, are extremely competitive now. I am good at my job, but I am not sure I would have even been interviewed in this batch of candidates, nor am I sure I could even give a good answer to the questions we asked our candidates. I was hired with far less experience than a lot of these candidates, so I don't believe that extensive experience is everything. (As one of my gymnastics coaches used to tell me over and over, practice doesn't make perfect; practice makes permanent. Only perfect practice makes perfect.) At the same time, having experience obviously makes it much easier to say and do the right things - whether it be answering questions for a job interview or helping a friend as she deals with cancer.
So, as a public service, I thought I would share a list of 10 things I vow to do in the future to be an amazing friend, or at least work my way in the direction. Not that I am wishing crises on any of my friends, but if they should occur, I will try to do one or more of the following, which have certainly been a great comfort and help for me:
- Bring them wine, send them wine, or send them a gift certificate to a wine shop.
- Drink wine with them when they feel it.
- Drink something else with them if wine makes them sick.
- Cook for them, or buy food and bring it to them, or send them a gift certificate for food.
- Arrange to have other people bring them food.
- Make sure their family has food, even if food makes them sick.
- Buy them frivolous stuff they don't need, but that makes them feel better.
- Go shopping with them when they want to buy frivolous stuff they don't need to make themselves feel better.
- Buy them stuff they do need that they don't know they need. (One of my friends bought me some super soft camisoles because she had another friend who had breast cancer who told her this would be helpful. Another friend gave me a giant body pillow because I couldn't sleep on my right side because of my hip or on my left side because of my breast. I didn't know how much I needed these things until I had them. :))
- Text, e-mail, or leave comments on their blog regularly.
I am sure I will have more to add as time goes on, but hopefully this captures my gratitude, and will help me to not be a deadbeat friend in the future. Until then, I am going to enjoy drinks with friends tomorrow night, and try to focus on the half of the glass that is full.
It's hard to know what's the best response when you're young and/or haven't been through the same sort of thing....I hope you aren't too hard on yourself about past interactions! So awesome that you have a half-full wineglass and so many good friends :). Too bad it took cancer to see that, sure, but, again, half-full glass.
ReplyDeleteENJOY those drinks and I will be thinking about you tomorrow!!!