Dear Martha: I'm ill

by Martha

Dear Martha,

I am sick. Maybe terminally, hopefully not. But treatment is brutal and life is on hold. But I am not on hold. Let me explain.

Friends who haven’t dealt with illness on this level, and most, if not all of them have not, don’t know what to say, or do, and don’t know how to act around me. Some avoid eye contact with me when they run into me. Some avoid me all together. Some are trying too hard and treat me like I’ve lost my mind, not my health. Some bring food which is nice but not helpful since I can’t eat much of anything. Some will sit with me and talk which is also nice, but all they want to talk about is my illness, and I am literally sick of my illness.

It is awful, isolating, and lonely when I need support the most. I feel as though I have not only lost my health, but my self.

Hoping you can give me some advice,

Where’s Waldo

 Dear Waldo,

My first reaction to your letter was OH CAN I GIVE YOU A HUG? Because you’re hurting, and that makes my heart hurt, and I want to give comfort in whatever way I can. But all I have of you is this letter, and all I can give you are words, which is for the best because you’re probably sick of sympathetic hugs.

People want to help or be supportive and simply don’t know how. The trick for the helper is to ASK how to be helpful. The trick for the helpee is to tell them what you need. I know this sounds obvious, but for whatever reason, people are generally bad at it.

You are going through what I’m sure is the hardest thing you’ve had to deal with in your whole life. If now is not the time to ask for exactly what you need, when is? I know it might sound uncomfortable or rude, but it’s not. It’s kind. If someone offers to bring you a casserole, say, “Thank you, friend. How thoughtful of you. Unfortunately, I’m not really into eating these days. What I could use is a raunchy movie and someone to laugh with.” I bet the first thing your friend thinks is oh thank goodness, now I know how to help.

As far as the poor souls that avoid eye contact when they run into you, brush it off. Let them go. They aren’t ready or able to face something uncomfortable or run the risk of saying something wrong, so they don’t say anything at all. I would never wish ill upon anyone, but I hope those people’s hearts have the chance to crack open enough to be vulnerable in the face of illness or hardship. The flip side of this is forgiving people that are willing to face something uncomfortable and do say something wrong. At least they’re trying, and don’t be afraid to correct them. Smile and say, “I’ve lost my health, not my mind. I’m still me!”

Let’s make room for people’s struggles. Let’s make room for mistakes and missteps. Let’s forgive when feet end up in mouths. Let’s toss tuna casseroles and ask, “How can I help?” Let’s brush away all the niceties and mores, and be ourselves. Let’s not flinch. Let’s love like it’s our job.

Yours respectfully,

Martha

If you have a question you’d like Martha to answer, please email it to DearMartha@theUtahBee.com. To read past advice from Martha go here.