The following excerpt is taken from Chapter
14
of Colon & Rectal Cancer: A Comprehensive Guide for
Patients & Families by Lorraine Johnston, copyright 2000 by
O'Reilly & Associates, Inc. For book orders/information, call
(800) 998-9938. Permission is granted to print and distribute this
excerpt for noncommercial use as long as the above source is
included. The information in this article is meant to educate and
should not be used as an alternative for professional medical care.
There's no one way to communicate successfully with others about your
needs. Even among people who believe they know each other well,
misunderstandings and hurt feelings arise because of daily variations in
mood or because of circumstances of which they're unaware. Your own skills
in dealing with colorectal cancer come into play, too, when what was not
upsetting yesterday may be upsetting today if you're sick, tired, and
discouraged.
Part of the reason I don't have problems getting support is because I'm not
easily offended. I told anyone who was interested about my ostomy for the
first year or so when I guess it was still a significant emotional issue
for me. If they so much as looked at me like they might be interested I
told them as much as I wanted them to know. One of the guys I worked with
once called me an asshole. "Nope," I said. "You can't call
me that anymore. I don't have one." He turned about four shades of
red. It was quite amusing.
Despite these ups and downs, many colorectal cancer survivors have
learned by experience about communicating with others. Details regarding
how to discuss your illness will be touched on in each section below, but
some very general guidelines are:
- With your closest loved ones, be as honest as possible, as gently as
possible.
- With those to whom you're not very close, use your judgment about what,
and how much, to say in order to protect yourself and them from undesirable
consequences until you can assess the quality of their responses. You may
choose, for example, to tell some family members, social acquaintances, and
coworkers a few things about your treatment while avoiding lengthy, painful
discussions, or topics they're likely to misunderstand.
- For that group in the middle comprising good friends and perhaps some
other family members, try to sense the boundary. Just as you have limits to
what you can bear, few friends are able to absorb all of your pain all of
the time. Asking, "Are you in the mood to listen to this today?"
or "Do you have the time and energy to be my sounding board?" are
two possible approaches. And the reverse is true: you need to be clear but
tactful if you don't feel like discussing your circumstances, for instance,
or if you aren't feeling sturdy enough to have visitors, or if caring for
your ostomy is still challenging.
The previous general suggestions are probably no surprise to you. Nor
will be the fact that there are exceptions to every rule.
The general guidelines of telling your closest loved ones the most, with
greatest honesty, may not hold. For example, you may have a close relative
who handles bad news better if you joke about it a little, but who will
never be able to react appropriately to the rawer emotions. He or she may
turn tail and run if you cry, for instance. Conversely, you may have a
casual friend with a medical background who is a skilled listener, and who
can at times provide you with more objective support than your family can.
From such an interaction a very deep friendship may grow.
Although most loved ones will support you, it's not unheard of for some
family members and friends to disappear when they discover you have cancer.
There's no one solution to this very painful problem. Often, colorectal
cancer survivors just move on to find new friends, but some cancer
survivors justifiably neither forgive nor forget. Sometimes the absentee
friend will reappear and apologize, perhaps not until years later.
Gender and cultural differences in communicating about illness can
affect the outcome of asking for help, especially in the US, as our
population is composed of so many cultural groups.
Insight into possible cultural and gender differences can help you
understand how you're being perceived, how you react to others' responses,
and can help you make corrections if needed. For instance, people who are
less demonstrative may feel manipulated by people who are highly expressive
of emotion; whereas those who are more emotionally demonstrative may feel
that less expressive people are cold and uncaring.
Generally, the perception in our culture is that Black Americans, Native
Americans, and those of Northern European extraction tend to
"report" on their illnesses and feelings in a matter-of-fact
tone, or not discuss them at all, rather than show emotion while discussing
them. Americans from cultures of the Mediterranean or some Asian groups are
reported as being more dramatic and forthright when talking about how
they're feeling. Japanese and Japanese Americans, in contrast, often are
reluctant to talk at all about disease.
Aside from differences in cultural backgrounds, there are perceptions,
exhaustively discussed in the popular press, that females are more
expressive of emotion than males.
In short, there can be obstructive differences in the styles of
different groups of humans as they confront illness. Keep in mind that any
method of expression is simply a style, not a fault or virtue: that is,
each style is adaptive or maladaptive in different settings. For example,
keeping a stiff upper lip and trying to be the strong, silent type might be
maladaptive when you need to ask for help.
Some families work better as a team than others. It's rare for any team
of people to respond perfectly when it comes to dealing with a crisis. You
may observe these lapses often in the workplace, but it can be especially
hurtful when one's family fails to respond appropriately.
Owing to the many variations in group behavior, it's not possible to
cover in this section all family behaviors with which you might have to
contend. Instead, the most common problems and solutions are discussed.
For many people of all ages, a new crisis tends to elicit behaviors that
worked well in the past, especially at first. These reflexive behaviors
might be arguing, escapism, intellectualizing the problem, or taking
control. For children or grandchildren in crisis, we might see a return to
the dependent behaviors they had outgrown. The overall impression in a
crisis may be that those around you are reverting to immature, maladaptive
behaviors. Keep in mind that colorectal cancer is a brand-new experience,
and that learned coping behaviors can be hard habits to change, especially
in a time of great stress.
Shelly describes his family's understanding of what he's going
through:
My wife always said, "Salt is no good for you." While she's a
good cook, I found some of her offerings bland because she uses very little
salt.
Recently she put the salt shaker in front of me and said,
"Enjoy." I guess she, too, is compensating for this
disease.
It may be harder for your loved ones to help you if you don't
communicate clearly about your circumstances. With this group, don't be shy
or proud. Ask for all the help you need, even if it embarrasses you. Many
family members express chagrin at the seeming reluctance of cancer patients
to "trouble" them. They in turn hesitate to invade the patient's
privacy by prying or being dominant. Consequently, the already upsetting
cancer experience can transform into an even larger menace than it is,
because nobody will talk about it.
On the other hand, if your family is closely knit, sharing and
verbalizing just about everything, the stresses associated with colorectal
cancer might appear to be taking a greater toll than one might see
in a family with fewer emotional ties and more independent members. The
telling point is the success of your family's long-term adaptation, not any
temporary disequilibrium, emotional flotsam, or distancing you may
experience. Shelly's remarks illustrate what works for him in the long
term:
Crying is a catharsis for me. I am not ashamed to show my feelings even
with tears. It's who I am. I've always been a softy when it comes to
emotions.
What you need from loved ones may change as your experiences evolve from
diagnosis through treatment. Different relatives and loved ones may prove
good at handling different things. Unlike coworkers and casual
acquaintances, close family members and loved ones probably won't surprise
you too often with their reactions, because it's likely you already know
their weaknesses and strengths. You may find yourself occasionally
disappointed, but perhaps not surprised.
Ideally, communicating with the loving adults in your life about your
needs should be relatively easy. Honesty, gentleness, and especially
gratitude should serve well. With a couple of exceptions, such as a
relative who's mentally ill or physically frail, adults who are nearest and
dearest should be trusted to handle every aspect, even the worst aspects,
of your illness appropriately.
My wife wanted to learn to take care of my ostomy in case I got really
sick. In the last two years, though, I've never been sick enough to need
help. No matter how lousy I feel, if I can get up and take a shower I can
take care of it myself.
In reality, however, cancer might challenge a family's beliefs and myths
about their family unit, and might alter the established dynamics of the
family. If the father, mother, husband, or wife has always been a wise and
strong provider, for example, the balance of power may shift temporarily
during treatment for colorectal cancer. If the partner without colorectal
cancer has developed an untoward reliance on the strong one, it may be a
difficult transition to assume control for a while. The partner with
colorectal cancer may suffer lowered self-esteem when roles shift. It's
important to keep in mind that often these shifts are temporary. Older
people with colorectal cancer may have adult children who want to return to
their parent the nurturing they received when they were young.
Many colorectal cancer survivors note that their loved ones become ill,
too, while trying to help them deal with treatment and emotional issues.
Upper respiratory infections such as sore throats, persistent GI tract
problems such as diarrhea, emergence of autoimmune disorders, and worsening
of certain other chronic illnesses such as herpes, diabetes, or heart
disease often go hand-in-hand with the extreme emotional stress associated
with a loved one's having cancer. At times, though, colorectal cancer
survivors report that a relative seems to want to be sicker than the person
with cancer. This does indeed happen in some families, and if it happens in
yours, chances are you've seen this kind of behavior before from that
individual. The deciding factor is whether the ostensibly ill person
continues to provide help to the best of his or her ability, or uses the
illness as an excuse not to help--or even to punish you.
If you find that the adult loved ones in your life are reacting to your
needs in unhelpful ways, do ask why. It may be a simple thing to put right.
If they seem angry, of course you needn't apologize for having cancer, but
it's likely some older, unresolved issues are being forced to the fore by
the stress of dealing with colorectal cancer. They may feel, for instance,
that they owe you little because in the past you were not supportive of
them when they needed help. Communication, humility, and open-mindedness
may work to break the impasse.
If attempts to communicate don't make much difference, it may be a
disappointment to realize that the strength you thought existed in the
relationship does not exist--or at least not for this set of circumstances.
Perhaps you could rely on someone else temporarily for what you need.
Sometimes loved ones just need some time to settle down and get used to the
changes and increased responsibilities that cancer brings.
Avoid asking a third family member to intervene if you have difficulty
getting along with a loved one. Triangles such as this seldom succeed
because they hint at two-against-one and talking behind each others'
backs.
If reasonable attempts to get the help you need fail, you might discuss
attending family counseling with the person who seems to be acting out of
character.
If none of these attempts works, then finding alternate support or
finding ways to live without such people, temporarily or permanently, is in
your best interest. Because of the seriousness of colorectal cancer, your
concerns must be put first, at least for the time being. You may be
surprised to find that, in spite of colorectal cancer, your life is more
serene and enjoyable in the absence of such difficult people. A decision
not to deal with someone is also a means of dealing with him.
One survivor describes her experiences with being nurtured by her mother
in a way she finds less than ideal, and how she and her sisters are
handling it:
Four years ago, when it looked like my colon cancer had returned, I busily
planned my "last Thanksgiving." I've managed three more
Thanksgivings without being poisoned by my mother's turkey.
Luckily, we evaded her kitchen again this year. My sister cooked the
turkey. It was delicious and didn't have pink bones. Mom, in her own
bizarre way, has managed to cook turkey in cool ovens and hot ovens, always
leaving it a bit underdone or vastly overcooked. If you think the colon
cancer drug CPT-11 is powerful, you should taste Mom's turkey.
I'm approaching a new Christmas this year where I hope to avoid being
poisoned by Mom's roast beef. Some lady down the street--it's always a lady
down the street--gave her a recipe for cooking roast beef by putting it in
a 500-degree oven, posting a sign on the oven door that says DO NOT OPEN,
turning off the oven, and waiting until everyone is starving.
For those of us with challenged colons, this holiday cooking is the pits!
Each year one of my four sisters gently undertakes the cooking of the
meals, keeping Typhoid Mother as far away from the kitchen as
possible.
Another survivor, an ostomate, describes problems he's heard about from
other ostomates:
One of the people in our ostomy support group commented that her husband
couldn't deal with her ostomy. Somebody else who had had a colostomy for 11
years can't really talk to her husband about how it sticks, how it works,
how it makes her feel. Her husband just can't deal with it. It also took
her daughter 10 years to talk about it--she's in college now. She said,
"Mom, I hope you don't mind I told my friends in college, and they
thought it was really cool that you had this, that you live well with
this." It was the first time her daughter acknowledged it in a
positive way. One woman who was at the meeting never changed her own
appliance; her daughter did it for her. This meant she couldn't go anywhere
without her daughter. The woman was in her forties, the daughter in her
twenties--both quite capable physically of moving on and taking care of
things on their own.
Communicating with young children has different goals than communicating
with adults. While it's true that children sometimes provide major
instrumental support if no other family members are available, generally it
isn't necessary or fair to expect a great deal of help from children. More
often, they can be asked to help with small, safe chores in order to make
them feel part of the solution, and to reinforce the honest relationship
they've grown accustomed to.
Human children are inclined by biology to think the world revolves
around them. Very young infants do not understand, for instance, that Mommy
is a separate person who can leave them with Daddy and go grocery shopping,
and they may become quite upset when they discover that Mommy is gone. This
bonding trait is probably essential to survival for a species whose young
have a long and vulnerable nurturing period such as humans and some other
mammals have.
This egocentric thought process lingers well throughout childhood,
though, and causes children to think that bad things that happen are their
fault. They may think that you developed cancer because they were very
angry with you when you once punished them, for example. They may even have
wished you were dead, and now it appears to be coming true. Depending on
their religious upbringing, they may believe that God saw them misbehave
and is punishing them.
For many reasons, children see us differently from our view of
ourselves. Lack of experience with emotions, fear of abandonment, or just
plain being shorter than adults means their perspective is truly different.
Often small children can't distinguish a sad or aging adult face from a
grouchy one, for example, and because adults are all-powerful from their
perspective, unconsciously they hedge their bets by tailoring their actions
to forestall anger instead of sadness, which from their perspective is the
worse of these two in terms of the consequences for the child.
This difference of perspective may also cause efforts to explain
colorectal cancer to backfire. If you try to compare colorectal cancer to
any illness they've had, it may create an extreme fear that becomes obvious
when the next normal childhood illness strikes them.
For these and other reasons, honesty with children about colorectal
cancer is essential.
This is a topic on which an entire book could be written.
An adolescent trying to break away from the family and become
independent is likely to experience quite ambivalent feelings if a parent
or grandparent is diagnosed with cancer. Just at the time in his life when
he'd rather avoid talking to any adult, circumstances may force him to
become very intimate and empathic with an older person viewed as powerful.
He must be patient and caring toward one of the people most likely to make
him angry by holding him to high standards, enforcing rules, denying him
privileges, or restricting his freedom. Some find that teens turn surly, or
run amok, when faced with the physical, emotional, and financial hardships
associated with cancer. Some experts say that boys are more likely to act
out anger and grief in violent ways than girls are.
Nonetheless, some people find that their adolescent children or
grandchildren are extraordinary in their ability to comprehend what's
needed, and that they follow through with a maturity that's well beyond
their years.
But, even more so than younger children, teens can appear to be
knowledgeable and well adjusted when in fact they are not. This group may
have an intellectual maturity that is beyond their level of emotional
maturity. A willingness to overlook unexplainable lapses, a keen awareness
of dangerous symptoms such as excessive silence, and an honesty that is
geared to their level of understanding are wise. Frequent offers to chat
candidly are a good tactic. These offers confirm their belief that they can
approach you about difficult subjects.
If you have a teen who's developing behaviors that are a danger to
herself or others, such as acting out rage, violating laws, or considering
dropping out of school, find a counselor who specializes in the adaptation
of children to serious illness. Attempts to handle these problems by
yourself may risk compounding your health problems, may make you a
psychologically abused parent or grandparent--and they may fail anyway. A
teen may carry "cancer anger" formed during these especially
rebellious years well into adulthood.
If you have a teen who's doing housework and assisting with medical care
while continuing to carry his academic responsibilities, thank him at least
daily.
I have a ninth grader, a boy. It is such a hard time for someone that age
to begin with, trying to deal with both adolescence and cancer. My son has
been handling my having cancer pretty well, but he is very sensitive and
even though I appear to be fine (I haven't lost any hair, and actually
gained quite a bit of weight since my diagnosis), when I wasn't doing as
well after my last operation, Joe was constantly being sent home from
school with stomach problems.
I think it is important for us to be honest with our children concerning
our cancer, but I always try to be positive and upbeat, and by being so, I
feel it puts my sons more at ease. Since I am now on disability, at times I
feel I am able to help my sons even more because I am there more for
them.
You expect your good friends to stand by you while you're facing serious
problems. Close friends can offer you help such as emotional support,
occasional running of errands, some cooking, household chores,
baby-sitting, or an escapist night on the town. As with loved ones, you may
occasionally be disappointed or surprised if they fail to live up to your
opinions of them. On the other hand, many colorectal cancer survivors have
discovered that good friends earn their wings in heaven by way of loyalty
and selflessness, and that some come to mean as much to them as their
family members.
Because they usually have a lower emotional investment in the
relationship than family members, good friends can be easier to deal with
at times. They can be more objective about some of your problems.
This objectivity is purchased with their relative distance. Good
friends, in order to remain good friends, may need an occasional vacation
from you and your problems. If you give them space to refresh themselves,
they are able to return to you with more emotional vigor.
Most people will find that at least some friends or acquaintances will
have responses that are disappointing, but you can't control how other
people react to cancer.