How to Talk to a Cancer Patient

http://www.amazon.com/Goodbye-Keanu-multiple-myeloma-ebook/dp/B00CB87K8Y

If I was going to join this group of mannequins, I was going to do it well. I went back to the computer to look up wig salons. One salon owner said that many women were more upset at losing their hair than having cancer. Several weeks ago I would have thought that was ridiculous. What were a few strands of hair that would grow back compared to your health? But now from the inside track, I had a different perspective. It was all about perception. I might have been able to fool others until now, but going bald meant there would be no hiding my disease anymore. I was going to become this other person that I wouldn’t recognise when I looked in the mirror. I was going to leave my old self behind and become a “cancer patient”.

      “Cancer patient” still has an unfortunate connotation. It brings forth images of nameless, glamour-less, bony, Auschwitz prisoners who are no more than walking corpses. It scared the hell out of me. I was not just losing my hair I was losing everything I was. I could understand why women wanted to hold on to their tresses above all. I shared my anxieties with Alex.

      “I’m horrified at the idea of going bald.” I admitted.

      “You’ll look cute”.        He said.

I didn’t take it well. Poor guy, he was trying to help. But it just trivialised what I was going to go through. I wasn’t going to be “cute” I was going to be the half-dead. I stormed out of the room and he had no idea why.

      That’s another book I’m going to write. How to Talk to a Cancer Patient or Ten Things You Should Never Say to the Very Sick. It would start with: “You look good”.  Never tell a cancer patient they look good. Because the patient is thinking I “look good” compared to what? Compared to other cancer patients? Compared to how sick I looked yesterday? Even worse, the visitor is usually saying you “look good” with a touch of surprise. Because honestly they weren’t really sure before they came to see you that someone with cancer could sit up, let alone carry on a conversation. Just don’t say it. Instead of making statements ask questions. Instead of “you look good” ask “how are you?”