THIS POST IS A RERUN FROM 2007. Jeanne
If you have cancer, or someone in your family does, then I think the toughest question you face at the holidays is: "How do we handle Christmas (or whatever holiday you celebrate)?"
This question is especially tough, because, as several people have mentioned in the posts and comments about cancer myths, we assume that people with cancer can't handle an open, honest discussion of how they would like to celebrate, or not celebrate the holidays. (See Send Me Your "Cancer Myths" and More Cancer Myths)
So, in many families, there are a lot of phone calls on the sly, and whispering behind the cancer patient's back, about what to do for Christmas.
There is often an assumption that this should be a more lavish holiday than most, because it may be The Cancer Patient's Last Christmas. And everyone should make an attempt to be there, to "say goodbye," just in case, and yet:
How much energy does this cancer patient have? Will he or she be able to enjoy a family celebration that goes on for six hours?
Will the cancer patient feel loved if he or she receives 10,000 gifts, or just overwhelmed?
And just what kind of gift is appropriate for someone who has cancer, anyway? (If I were really mercenary, I'd put a Store section on my blog, selling only gifts appropriate for cancer patients of all ages, "Chosen by a panel of Real, Live Cancer Patients!")
Has the cancer patient given any indication that he or she is ready or able to "say goodbye" to family members? (If anyone did this to me, I'd go ballistic. I will say my goodbyes, or not, when I feel ready to do so.)
What happens if The Cancer Patient is still alive next Christmas? Does the family do it all again?
Having lived with cancer for nine years now, and coming up on my 10th Christmas as a cancer patient, I've given these issues a lot of thought.
Being the only adult in my family of three (me plus two almost-grown sons), I've been able to control the holiday celebrations, and that has mostly been a good thing. (See How I Cope, Christmas 2007 and My First Christmas With Cancer)
As you know, if you read my blog regularly, I don't give other people advice, and I don't appreciate people giving me advice, unless I've asked for it.
So let me say just one thing: If you have a cancer patient in your family, and you are not sure how much or how little of a holiday celebration this person will enjoy:
ASK.
It's that simple.
Here are a couple of trial questions:
"How would you like to celebrate Christmas this year?"
"What would you like for Christmas?"
No need to add "since you have metastatic cancer of the little toe and we don't know how long you will be with us"--the cancer patient gets the subtext, trust me.
For me, I want to celebrate Christmas pretty much as we always have. I don't want to do anything special because I'm sick. But I do want a simpler holiday, because I get tired easily, and because, as the only adult, most of the work of the holiday falls to me, with help from several loving friends, of course.
And I prefer that the people who celebrate with me do not mention my cancer during the holidays, and don't give me that pitying, "You have cancer and you're dying" look so familiar to all people living with cancer. (I have pretty much managed to cut everyone who does this out of my circle of friends, so I don't get this much any more. Don't tell me that I'm cold, or heartless--I spent years emotionally propping up friends who couldn't cope with the fact that I might die, and I am done with that. No more.)
I want my friends and relatives to celebrate with me because they love me and enjoy my company, not because I'm dying.
And I plan to be here next year, anyway.
Note: I wrote this post a year ago, and I'm happy to say I'm still here, preparing for another Christmas with my family. Jeanne
@ Jeanne Sather 2007.
When I was newly diagnosed with mets and recovering from a fracture of my left femur, the first holiday to come around was the Jewish new year, Rosh Hashanah. Since I wasn't able to walk up the front stairs to anyone's house, we hosted a number of friends to celebrate with a festive dinner. Everyone brought food to our home.
As we gathered around the table to sing the blessing over the wine, my husband suddenly asked us to Stop! so he could get a small tape recorder. He wanted to record the sound of me singing.
We had been told that half of all mets patients live for 1 year. He was clearly worried that this would be my last holiday. We all got choked up but we went on.
Fast forward five years and I doubt he remembers where he put that tape, if indeed he hasn't recorded over it. We've celebrated many holidays together in the past five years, always on their proper dates. Every time I ask myself if this is the last holiday. The good news is that Jews celebrate so many holidays throughout the year that I don't have to project all my holiday joy on one date. The bad news is that I, LIKE ALL OF US, don't know if I'll be here for the next festive occasion. But I live as though I will, and I plan accordingly.
Posted by: Jill Cohen | November 30, 2007 at 08:38 AM
Jeanne...
I absolutely appreciate what I have learned with you about communication with people who live with such an illness for years. I however still struggle with one issue: many people in my family would prefered to be guessed...So, I still find it difficult to conclude that openness and questions are always good, even when they are always my prefered choice. I would like to be openly asked, not to just satisfy others' curiosity about my illness but about my choices for Christmas for instance. But is that always the case?
Posted by: Miranda | November 28, 2009 at 01:03 AM
Hi Miranda--in this post I deviated from the way I usually write (which is NOT to give advice, just to talk about my experiences and how I feel, and occasionally to use other cancer patients' stories) ... so I have to say, if this doesn't work for you and your family--ignore it. Do things the way that feel right to you.
But it does sound like you would like something slightly different from the way your family does things, and you are the one with cancer, right?
Do you feel like you want to change things so that you get what you prefer? Just a question, no value judgments here.
Posted by: jeanne Sather | November 28, 2009 at 09:50 AM
I would like to add my perspective, not just as a woman with breast cancer, but as a hospice nurse. As Jeanne wrote, I have encountered so many families who take me aside to ask how "things" should be handled, whether it be holidays, questions from family, etc. The first thing I always say is "what does Patient want to do or say?" For many folks, this did not even occur to them. Yes, I have encountered some patients who do NOT want to discuss their illness, and their wishes should be honored. But I tend to see that once families, and patients too, realize that it is okay to bring "the cancer thing" out in the open, many fruitful discussions and decisions result. If family members are not comfortable about "just asking," I am often asked to open that dialogue with the patient. Having a third party do so avoids some of the "emotionality" (even thought the family is usually present) that is keeping the patient and family from talking.
What I see mostly echoes what Jeanne says. Patients usually want to continue to celebrate holidays and family events as they have in the past, albeit with sensitivity to the patient's physical needs and tolerance for activity. Sometimes large families will schedule several smaller get-togethers, or arrangements can be made for the patient to have some quiet time during the festivities. All of my patients that I visited yesterday told me they really enjoyed their Thnakgivings. And that's all that matters!
Posted by: Cathy McDonald | November 28, 2009 at 10:57 AM
Cathy--thanks so much for chiming in. This is a really great suggestion: If you aren't comfortable asking the cancer patient straight out what they want, get a trusted third party, like a nurse, involved as a go-between.
Good idea.
Posted by: jeanne Sather | November 28, 2009 at 11:42 AM
thanks very much to all ladies for their contribution, ...Jeanne, I got no cancer so far, I am however very-very painfully aware of many communication issues, I do not know why I am so sensitive, but it is how it is...I read what you write, understand and learn...I totally get that you are not giving advise, you just allow me to see through your side of the story. It is very valuable when one wants to learn.
Posted by: Miranda | November 29, 2009 at 12:29 AM