“What can I do to help?” That is the standard query we proffer when a close friend or relative is laid low with a serious medical illness and we aren’t quite sure what to do.
What is a better thing to say? I have been impressed, time and again, with the way the families and friends of my clients get this right. I thought I would share some of their stories to give those who feel perhaps paralyzed and unsure in such situations some wonderful ideas of how to be truly supportive.
Help with chores
When I arrived at Samantha’s house, I heard some rustling in the next room, but didn’t think anything of it. Samantha had debilitating back pain, and had wanted me to see her “in her element” so that I could better understand her. “My doctors dismiss me,” she told me matter-of-factly. “I want you to see me in my home, so that you will see me as a real person. I am an artist. I have a life and I want to go back to it.” We had a long talk, reviewed her history in depth and what some next steps might be for her. When we were finished, she said, “I want you to meet someone.” A friendly face appeared in the doorway.
“Hello! I won’t shake your hand–I am washing the floor here–but I am Samantha’s sister.” Samantha’s smiling sibling ducked back into the kitchen.
I said to Samantha–”Your sister is washing your kitchen floor? That is true love.”
“Yes” Samantha allowed–”with my back pain, she knows I can’t do that–and I do like to keep my house clean. So she stopped by this morning to wash my floor.”
Of course it doesn’t have to be the floor. It could be shopping, or picking up the kids, or running an errand, or fixing a meal to bring over. You know your friends and family best. And if you don’t know what to do–just ask.
Instead of the vague–”what can I do to help,” be specific–can I 1/walk your dog 2/ buy your groceries 3/ wash your kitchen floor? The latter is above and beyond the call of duty in my book–but shows, I think, just how supportive we can be for each other in times of need.
Offer a getaway
The family of one client I advocate for invited him and his wife to come stay with them last summer for a week at the beach. My client had lost a lot of weight, and – I will call the relative “Aunt June”–during his visit, Aunt June figured out ways to sneak ice cream and shakes and especially tempting dishes into his daily fare. My client grew stronger by the day; by the end of the week, he was bounding up out of his chair “like his old self,” marveled his young wife. Aunt June also took the time to draw him out, and suggest different approaches he might take to his pain–her sister had used some CBD gummies for her chronic pain–might this help his cancer pain? He would bring it up with his doctor, he said.
Not only did the refreshing visit clear some of the mental and physical cobwebs for my client–but in his absence, the wonderful Aunt June arranged to have the rest of the family descend on the young couples’ house while they were away, fixing the uneven pavement outside, and freshening up the inside from top to bottom.
Not every family has a magical Aunt June–but many of us could put into action some of her fantastic ideas. I think sometimes we just lack imagination. All of us can carry out some version of these things for our ailing friends and relatives– we just don’t necessarily think of them.
Saving you, saving me
The third case study is an example of how helping a family member might not just improve your friend’s life–it may also help your own.
One of my clients had a several months’ long hospitalization for a severe pneumonia. The steroids that he had been given to save his lungs had caused a terrible myopathy, or inflammation and weakness of his muscles. He was too weak to lift a cup to his mouth; he could not move his legs or even wiggle his toes. He was absolutely dependent on others for every aspect of his care. In addition, he was being discharged from the hospital at the height of the COVID pandemic.
There was no question in my mind that if he went to a rehabilitation facility, which were, at the time, completely overwhelmed with the crush of very ill patients, he would likely die–whether of COVID-19 that he might catch in the facility or aspiration pneumonia or just of a slow death of despair, since it was at a time when no family members were allowed to visit.
I asked his physicians–”Could we arrange for discharge to home with 24 hour care?”
The social work staff was not wild about the idea–especially when the person who stepped forward to volunteer was the patient’s sixty year old sister, who had serious health concerns of her own. But the doctors were grateful for the idea, and willing to give it a try.
The sister–I’ll call her “Jane”– was a former nurse. Despite her infirmities, she was game; and as the weeks went on, and the hospital could find no rehab hospital that would take the patient, with great reluctance, the hospital discharged him to home, to be cared for by Jane. Social work set up a whole host of support networks: physical and occupational therapy, a visiting nurse, palliative care.
When the palliative care nurse first met with the patient and me, she urged him strongly to consider hospice. “What are your goals?” she wanted to know. At that time, the possibility that he would ever be able to sit up in a wheelchair seemed remote at best.
“To walk and drive a car again,” my client answered. The likelihood of that seemed dim indeed, given my client’s incapacitation. But under the expert care and with the steadfast support of his sister, Joe started to walk again–and progressed to the point where he was wheelchair free–and indeed, driving a car.
I am convinced that he would never have gotten there without the dedication and love of his sister, who brought him back, literally, from the brink.
Jane later shared with me that the experience saved her, too: she had been going through a dark moment before she moved up to Boston for several months to care for her brother. Even though it was exhausting and physically challenging for her, ”I think it saved my life,” Jane said. “I know I saved my brother’s.”
One of my favorite French expressions is this: “Une solution boiteuse trouvée par soi-même est infiniment plus valable qu’une idéologie toute faite qui empêche l’homme de penser.”–Eugene Ionesco, Nobel Prize speech.
It translates to, roughly: imperfect solutions can often be better than the prescribed, conventional ones set forth–in this case– by our rather rigid medical system.
Medicine is full of ideologies: rehab can only happen in rehab hospitals; only trained personnel can perform certain tasks; medicine alone will heal patients. But in fact, the love and support of friends and family play such a key role in regaining health.
These ideas won’t work for everyone, but perhaps these approaches that substantially helped my clients may give others ideas for similar “imperfect” – but ultimately successful– solutions.
Looking for more ideas about how to help friends and family facing difficult diagnoses? Below are a few articles with some excellent suggestions.
Helping friends with a difficult diagnosis
9-ways-to-support-a-friend-with-a-serious-illness
how-to-support-someone-health-crisis
Medical disclaimer:
The suggestions given here are not intended as a substitute for the medical advice of your physician. The reader should regularly consult a physician in matters relating to his/her health and particularly with respect to any symptoms that may require diagnosis or medical attention. For additional questions, please call your healthcare provider for reliable, up-to-date information on testing and symptom management of all medical concerns.
All names are changed to protect confidentiality.
Photo credit: Isabela Kronemberger, from unsplash.com
