<p>I was given some advice from my kids’ pediatrician when (I didn’t realize how soon) my mother was sick and dying. While I though I had a year with her, it was only days. The doctor said to me to say what was in my heart. Frankly, I wish that I had more time. I only started the dialogue. But I said to her, “I am very proud that you are my mother.” and said a few more things. I told my husband, when his father was dying to tell his father how proud he was of him or whatever he needed to say to make the circle complete. My mother died 2 days after I spoke my few words. My FIL went unconscious that evening. Say something special about the person TO the person.</p>
<p>On the other hand, some people don’t want things to be special at all.</p>
<p>A colleague of mine was able to come back to work for a while after being diagnosed with and treated for advanced cancer. She knew that this reprieve would probably be relatively short, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk about her illness. What she wanted was to be a normal employee – to do her job and get away from being a cancer patient, at least for 8 hours a day. She shared this feeling with her closest friend at the office, who told the rest of us. When she was at work, nobody discussed her illness with her. Instead, we discussed work. That’s what she wanted.</p>
<p>My colleague wasn’t denying her illness, she was just insisting that she wasn’t defined by it. For her, the most important thing was to remember that she had an identity other than “cancer patient.” Part of that identity was “project manager at Company X.”</p>
<p>A lot depends on the individual person.</p>
<p>^^^ and the circumstances.</p>
<p>The ability to have a place where one can focus on “normal” is a great relief.This is often work. Every other place may be defined by the loss or the illness. But work is a place where knowledge and ability can trump medical conditions or or loss–at least for several hours.</p>
<p>My dad died of brain cancer a year ago. What he wanted above all, during his illness, was to feel normal. “I don’t want to be the 24-hour cancer show,” he said once. He got tired of everybody asking the exact same questions about his illness and how he was feeling, when what he wanted was to just have them stop by for coffee and shoot the breeze like it was any other day.</p>
<p>He (and I) also got weary of people who spoke in war or sports metaphors about his illness, or who talked as though a positive attitude was some kind of miracle cure. There are no happy endings with Stage IV brain cancer; there’s only buying time. </p>
<p>“I’m thinking of you” is a perfectly fine sentiment; so is “I’m so sorry to hear about your diagnosis”. If you’re a close enough friend to want to lend a hand or stop by for a visit, offer to do so–and then follow up, relatively soon.</p>