The 800 Pound Gorilla

The 800 Pound Gorilla

If your team is composed of your healthcare professionals, what role do your family and friends play? Clearly, they are the fans. And another learning we’ve had from Covid-19 is, the team doesn’t play without the fans.

Your fans are your cheering section. They are the ones who are crazy about you and will do anything to see you win – pray for you, send you cards, get all superstitious on you because it might help (which of course you do, too), and go out of their way to bring you things that could make you smile.

These folks are the ying to the team’s yang. Or vice versa. That’s how critical they both are. And just like your team, you have to manage your fans. I’ve found the best recipe is communication, honesty and humor.

Communicate

Generally what I see is that family and friends are unsure of what to do and they don’t want to make a mistake. So you explain what’s happening and how they can help. Be direct. Introduce the gorilla in the room. It stays awkward if you pussyfoot around it. They are taking their leads from you.

If you don’t want to get 100 phone calls and repeat all day long, maybe you set up a group email for updates. If you don’t want them to keep coming over with lasagna and chocolate cake, why don’t you suggest some other foods you like or have them watch a weekly TV show with you instead? This is a great time to be in communication with those you love.

Remember they are your fans, so whatever they’re doing that makes you nuts, know they are only trying to help. They love you. Take a breath and steer them in the direction you would prefer they take. At no time more than now does the “it’s the thought that counts” apply.

Be Honest

You want to get the most out of your day. I find that I don’t really care to hear all about people whom I will never meet (unless the stories are funny – that’s gold, Jerry!). I also don’t want to sit through complaining or how they are a victim, unless they are doing something about it. The people who roll into this habit with me learn quickly to change the subject.

Sometimes being honest can be tricky. If my energy is low or I’m not feeling well, I don’t want to freak them out with the truth. Because it does. So I have found that by keeping their spirits up, I keep my own up, too. It’s a two-fer!

But you never want to lie. If the drugs aren’t working and I have to try something else, that’s how it goes. It’s like the high scorer who sprains their ankle. Yes, it’s a setback but we’ll regroup and be back soon. If you frame the narrative, they will be OK. If they’re not, I tell them to straighten out or I’m throwing them out of the fan club because I don’t need any Sad Sacks or Debbie Downers. That works; I’ve only had to use it twice since 1985.

Humor

Laughter is its own blessing. Not only for us but for our fans. When you think about it, there is a lot of humor around cancer.

I remember during cancer #1, I was meeting my fiancée for drinks. A friend bought me a facial and I decided to do it on my way to meet him since the salon was nearby. In the chair I asked if I should take off my wig. “Oh, yes. The forehead must be free.” Well she didn’t know where my forehead ended so I got the deluxe head facial, too. The joke was actually on me, though. I must have confused a facial with a makeover. I expected to come out looking beautiful, albeit with too much makeup on, but I was all splotchy and bare. Good thing the bar was dark.

I was scheduled for eight chemotherapy sessions with cancer #1. They told me I would probably throw up. (Here’s a joke: the pill they gave me, Compazine, to prevent it actually made me vomit. They call that contraindication. I call it a ripoff. I kept it anyway, in case I was ever accosted in a dark alley. Nobody would stick around if I were puking my guts out.)

I made up a Richter scale for chemo puking: 1 to 10, with comparisons to the worst alcohol-related upchucking I ever did in college. Even the worst chemo session didn’t come close to the night Ralph and I polished off a bottle of ouzo. I often wonder if someone had told me then, “This experience will be invaluable if you ever have chemo,” would I have felt any better?

Friends and family who make you laugh are the fans that you need to put in the front row.