What do you say to comfort someone who's just been told they've got cancer?

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Tomorrow morning I have to take my mother-in-law to find out the results of her mammogram. They wouldn't tell her the results over the phone, they want her to come in. This isn't a good sign.

Although I think I'm reasonably compassionate, at 25 I feel ill-equipped to deal with this. I don't really feel like I even know my mother-in-law well and have never been around anyone particularly ill. Can anyone who has some kind of experience in this or a similar area give me a few tips?

I feel totally out of my depth.

kate/papa november (papa november), Thursday, 17 February 2005 00:18 (twenty years ago)

Hm. It might not mean it's a bad result, actually. I don't think you're American, but here (at least, probably other countries too, I'm sure) we have new(ish) regulations making some clinics unable to give results over the phone.

roxymuzak (roxymuzak), Thursday, 17 February 2005 00:31 (twenty years ago)

From what limited experience I have with something like this, the most important thing is simply to be there. Sometimes a long hug will say more than any words can. Roxy's point is a good one, though (Kate is Australian).

Ned Raggett (Ned), Thursday, 17 February 2005 00:32 (twenty years ago)

I guess i'm a little worried as their family has a history of breast cancer and cancer in general.

kate/papa november (papa november), Thursday, 17 February 2005 00:34 (twenty years ago)

Let her react the way she does; don't try and control her emotions.
Make it clear she is not alone and is not going to be, ever.
The truth is that breast cancer is much easier to treat than it used to be so her chances are probably good. Focus on the positive but don't minimise the situation.
Think about how you would want to be treated. I wouldn't want pity, or to be looked at as if I were half-dead already but I wouldn't want cheery denial either.
Ask her what she wants to do with the rest of the day: don't treat her like a hopeless case simply because she has some errant cells.
Don't beat yourself up if you make a few mistakes- it can be hard to deal with serious illness if you're not used to it. Unfortunately I am used to it, due to having two very close friends become ill (one of whom has died) in recent times. The thing they both hated most was how people withdrew from them because they were embarrassed. It's better to be there and to fuck up than to shy away. It makes the sick person feel really lonely and cynical when people disappear.
It's nice that you're going in with her. You are brave and kind to do that.

estela (estela), Thursday, 17 February 2005 00:45 (twenty years ago)

Thanks, she only recently moved to my city and doesn't have any friends or family here so I'm really the only person who can do this for her. Thankyou so much for the suggestions, I'm stressing out at the moment and you've helped me calm down a bit.

kate/papa november (papa november), Thursday, 17 February 2005 00:50 (twenty years ago)

a mammogram is never the definitive diagnostic test for breast cancer.

most mammograms are done in hopes of spotting suspicious lesions before they become clinically obvious (this is the "screening mammogram" recommended every 1-2 years for women over 40 in the U.S.). there's also something called a "diagnostic mammogram", which is a more detailed sequence of images ordered to investigate a lump that has already been found (by the woman or her doctor).

in either case, the worst thing a mammogram can show is a lesion that is suspicious for breast cancer. the level of suspicion can vary dramatically, according to characteristic patterns on the X-ray. if the lesion looks typicially benign, most doctors will recommend repeating the mammogram in a few months, to see if the situation's changed. but if there's any reasonable question that the lesion might be cancerous, a biopsy (either surgical or needle aspiration) is required. most doctors are very quick to biopsy these days, especially in north america (where a missed diagnosis of breast cancer is the most successful malpractice suit).

the most likely reason why your mother-in-law's been asked to come in is to discuss the need for a biopsy. not that you should necessarily expect the worst: well over 60% of all breast biopsies are benign. no matter what the level of suspicion, there's no way of really knowing, one way or the other, until the biopsy is analyzed.

of course, that doesn't answer your question.

estela's advice is very good, i think. (i've dealt professionally with people receiving bad news, but i've never been through that with a friend or family member.)

the best rule (assuming the worst for the moment) is probably to take your cues from your mother-in-law. different people react differently; this is okay. she may be businesslike and focussed on the next step or she may burst into tears (or neither, or both) -- there is no "right" response and nothing to be gained (i think) from pushing her in one direction or the other. just be there for her, listening empathetically, whatever the emotional weather.

the harder part of this dealing with your own emotions: bad news for your mother-in-law is also bad news for you, at some level. like estela said, you have to be able to cut yourself some slack. but keep hanging in -- you'll both be better for it.

all the best. i hope the news is good.

doctor love hewitt (doctor love hewitt), Thursday, 17 February 2005 01:38 (twenty years ago)

Yeah, best wishes Kate.

estela (estela), Thursday, 17 February 2005 01:55 (twenty years ago)

Thankyou, i'll let you guys know how it goes.

kate/papa november (papa november), Thursday, 17 February 2005 01:56 (twenty years ago)

There was this article in the Guardian last week on just the same topic.
Sorry I should have just put the link but it has been archived and I was not sure it would work.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1408068,00.html

'I don't know what to say'

What is the best way to respond when a friend or relation says they have cancer? You could try listening for a start, says Joanna Moorhead

Tuesday February 8, 2005
The Guardian

When Stella, who is 42, was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, she dreaded other people's reactions. "The thing I couldn't stand was when they cried," she says. "And another awful thing was when they trotted out anecdotes about their Auntie Gladys, or whoever, who did or didn't lose their hair.
"Usually they'd be telling you about someone of a completely different age who'd had cancer in a whole different set of circumstances. Even if the cancer was similar it was very unlikely to be the same, and it couldn't be identical because no two cancers are. In fact, it was a bit like saying, 'I had an auntie who had a disease once' - sad, but irrelevant."
Most insensitive of all, though, was the friend who told Stella that she reminded her of her cousin Jenny, adding as an afterthought, "God rest her soul." "No, no, no," says Stella. "It's not just unhelpful, it's really upsetting."
Occasionally a comment is not so much upsetting as irksome. "People are always telling me how healthy I look," says Paul d'Auria, who has had cancer for 12 years. "I tell them I'll put it on my tombstone: 'He always looked well.'" Others are annoyed by people who seek - albeit in a well-intentioned way - to downgrade their friend's illness. "You get people who say it's not so bad, at least it's treatable," says Shelley Dolan, nurse consultant for cancer and critical care at the Royal Marsden hospital in London. "But any cancer is likely to be the worst thing that's ever happened to someone, so it's not very sensitive to say it's not so bad.
Another thing that grates with a lot of patients is friends who say, 'I know how you're feeling.' No one can ever really know how another person is feeling anyway, and there's certainly no way someone who doesn't have cancer can know how someone who does have it is feeling."
Sometimes people don't even need to speak to upset someone who has just been diagnosed with cancer. When Simon, 52, told a colleague he had got throat cancer, the man took a step back and put his hand up to his own throat. "He didn't have to say anything," says Simon. "His body language was saying it for him - thank God it's not me, and don't get too close."
Most of us wouldn't make such a faux pas, but how many of us "get it right" when someone we know gets cancer? Is there, in fact, such a thing as getting it right? Even trained therapists admit that they sometimes say the wrong thing and upset a patient - so how much harder is it for the rest of us who are not experienced counsellors?
The first thing to realise, according to Kathryn Myhill, specialist information nurse at CancerBacup, is that there is no formula for a "correct" response. You might feel shocked, frightened and upset yourself at what you've heard, which makes it doubly difficult to know how to react. But she cautions against saying nothing for fear of saying the wrong thing. "What's usually best is to acknowledge what you're feeling. Say something like, 'I don't know what to say, I'm finding it really difficult.'"
Launching into a story about someone else you know with cancer is a common response but Myhill, like Stella, says it's rarely helpful. "What you're usually doing is hiding behind these stories rather than being supportive of the friend or colleague in front of you," she says.
People who rush to offer advice are often making the same mistake. You may have some knowledge of cancer treatment or you may have once read a newspaper article on the subject, but, says Vanda Taylor, information nurse at Cancer Research UK, it's usually best to give people contacts at support organisations rather than to be prescriptive about exactly what they need to do or to present them with reams of internet research you've undertaken on their behalf.
In fact, says Taylor, what tends to be most helpful - particularly in the early days and weeks after diagnosis - is to offer to do a friend's shopping or ironing, or to cook a meal or make school lunches for their children. "People think when someone they know gets cancer they've got to make themselves available for a big heart-to-heart," says Taylor. "But my advice is to think in terms of practicalities. Someone who's been told they've got cancer still has do the cooking, buy the shopping and walk the dog - and that's often really hard when there's so much else going on. It can be a huge relief to have a friend say, 'Give me your laundry basket' or 'Let me take the kids to school.'"
She agrees that a good friend should signal readiness to talk things through, but on the patient's terms, not their own. "I generally say to people to get it out of the way early on. Say to your friend, 'I'm here for you. When you do want to talk I'm here to listen, but it doesn't have to be today or next week, it's when you want to. And I won't ask you every day if you want to talk about it, but know that I am here for you when it is the right time.'"
And for talking, says Shelley Dolan, read listening. "That's the most important thing. In our busy world, many of us are out of the habit of listening properly to what another person is saying, but that really does matter in this situation. What the other person will be saying will be so painful, so huge, so raw ... there will be silences and there may be tears, and you shouldn't rush to fill the silences or to stop the tears. Sometimes what people are saying is just so big inside them that they have to be silent for a while during a conversation, and you have to respect that.
"Avoid platitudes, too. Again, it's not easy - we all want to be able to say, 'Things will be all right.' It's a huge burden - you're maybe shocked yourself and you're not an expert, but research we've done at the Marsden shows that 88% of people with cancer turn to their family and to friends and neighbours when dealing with how they feel about it, so a lot of people are going to find themselves called on to help in this way."
Picking up on clues that might not be immediately evident is vital too, says Dolan. "You might ask someone how they are, and they say, 'Oh, fine.' And then, as an afterthought, they say, 'Well I have got a bit of pain but it's nothing much.' What that might mean is that they'd like to talk more about the pain, but they're not sure if it's OK to burden you with those feelings. And if you're open to it, you might be able to delve a bit more deeply and ask more about the pain, while being ready to back off if that doesn't seem to be something they want to go into in more detail."
Ian Young, 45, who was diagnosed with a brain tumour more than five years ago, says what counts most is sensitivity to how he's feeling, especially considering that his mood changes a lot from day to day. "What I value from friends is acceptance of how I'm feeling at this moment," he says. "Sometimes I don't want to talk about it, and other times I couldn't possibly talk about anything else. And a good friend is the person who'll say, 'Do you want to talk about it, mate?' and accept that, if you don't want to talk about it now, that's fine, but you might another time."
One thing Young recommends is to ask a person with cancer not just how they're feeling, but how they're feeling today. "People say, 'How are you?' but they don't really mean it. When someone says, 'How are you today?' they're indicating that they're genuinely interested, and also that they recognise that you are suffering from a serious illness but that your health is still different from day to day. I appreciate that."
While most of us would want to be supportive to a friend with cancer, professional counsellors say it's important to know your constraints and limits. How much you can do depends on what else is going on in your own life - if you're dealing with other major stresses, it's better to admit that from the outset rather than promising to be the Good Samaritan and then crumbling under the strain.
Likewise, it's important to be aware of sympathy fatigue, a phenomenon much recognised by cancer sufferers whereby friends typically turn out in droves to be there for them in the first month, but dwindle to single figures 18 months later when they're still battling to get to chemotherapy appointments and may be at their lowest ebb. In other words, says Dolan, to be truly supportive may mean being in it for the long haul, and it's worth being aware of that from the start.
Facing Cancer: A Guide for Family and Friends is a recent publication from the Royal Marsden, www.royalmarsden.org Lost for Words: How to Talk to Someone with Cancer is available from CancerBacup on 0808 8001234, or visit www.cancerbacup.org.uk

Paul Kelly (kelly), Thursday, 17 February 2005 03:25 (twenty years ago)

Yeah, I'd say listening and making yourself available are probably the best things to do. People react in different ways to this kind of thing, and there is no "one size fits all" reaction.

Going in with her is a lovely thing to do. Ask if she wants you in the office or not - my experience (even just getting a biopsy) was that I just wanted a non-medical friend person around to be On My Side and make it not so scary.

Kate Kept Me Alive! (kate), Thursday, 17 February 2005 12:33 (twenty years ago)

The best thing you can do is be supportive and reiterate it a thousand times over. I've just come out of this situation, and this is really the way to do it - THERE ARE NO RIGHT WORDS.

Deerninja B4rim4, Plus-Tech Whizz Kid (Barima), Thursday, 17 February 2005 12:37 (twenty years ago)

Well it was cancer, but very small. She was stressed and upset, but she seemed to keep it together. She was very grateful I was there, so that made me feel good. Felt a bit weird being the only worry-free woman in a room full of older women in hospital gowns. I could see the anxiety on their faces.

kate/papa november (papa november), Friday, 18 February 2005 08:04 (twenty years ago)

So is she having the lump excised? I'm keeping my fingers crossed that all goes well, and send you both my best wishes.

C J (C J), Friday, 18 February 2005 08:57 (twenty years ago)

i hope it is going to go well with your mother-in-law. i am going with my girlfriend for a biopsy next thursday. at times, she's a nervous wreck, but generally, she is holding up pretty well. there is definitely a lump in there.

anyway, i just leafed thru this book that this 30yr old girl has written about her (now cured) breast cancer. one thing she said was: if you have to get through chemotherapy, get a really cool wig, not a sorry one. she bought herself a j-lo wig.

well, for what it's worth.

Jay-Kid (Jay-Kid), Friday, 18 February 2005 20:23 (twenty years ago)

I really hope everything goes well Kate, and the same goes for Jay-Kid and your girlfriend also.

estela (estela), Saturday, 19 February 2005 23:33 (twenty years ago)

Umm...update. Yeah she's getting the lump taken out she's pretty worried but I tried to reassure her as much as I could. It was difficult to not downplay it when you know that some women die of breast cancer or have mastectomys and she's only getting a small part removed, however I shut up because obviously, it's not me with the cancer and cancer is never a good thing big or small.

kate/papa november (papa november), Saturday, 19 February 2005 23:41 (twenty years ago)

I actually think all the advice is good here (you don't often get to say that on any message board) - the best thing is to be completely supportive, and going with her is a great part of that. I hope it's good news (I am pretty convinced that having to go in means nothing at all), but as has been pointed out, bad news still means only a minority chance of cancer; and breast cancer is so much more treatable now, so you are far from terrible news.

ah, xpost. Still, a small part is not such awful news, but it's still bad for her. Take care of her.

Martin Skidmore (Martin Skidmore), Saturday, 19 February 2005 23:44 (twenty years ago)

I will. Thankyou and everyone for all the kind thoughts. It's nice to have ilx as a resource when something like this happens.

kate/papa november (papa november), Saturday, 19 February 2005 23:55 (twenty years ago)

take care, kate.

cozen (Cozen), Saturday, 19 February 2005 23:56 (twenty years ago)

Indeed. *many good thoughts*

Ned Raggett (Ned), Sunday, 20 February 2005 00:08 (twenty years ago)

I sure hope all goes well. I just went thru my mom's bout with lung cancer--she went in to get checked out prior to fairly minor knee operation, and they found some stuff in her lung. She had the lung removed. The best thing to do is indeed to be with the person under question, let them feel what they're inevitably going to feel, and stay as cool as possible. Just being there with the person is most of it--trying to "look at it rationally" doesn't work so well with a lot of people, it's a very frightening thing indeed.

Anyway, good thoughts to you.

edd s hurt (ddduncan), Sunday, 20 February 2005 23:36 (twenty years ago)


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