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sb10063567bj 001 1 The 3 words I never wanted my friend to say.

How do you a help a friend with cancer?

By EMMA-LOUISE JOHNSON

A few weeks ago one of my nearest and dearest dropped the C bomb: “I’ve got cancer.”

Before I knew it, my gorgeous girlfriend had relocated her newly established New York lifestyle back to Sydney and had begun chemotherapy. All at the ripe old age of 25.

Even though we both live in separate countries, we visit each other regularly and talk most days. During her last few visits she had mentioned having some pain in her neck and arm.

I didn’t hear much more about this until it had escalated to a point where she wasn’t sleeping properly. She took herself (on gut instinct) to have a scan. The pain she was experiencing was in fact a tumor pressing on a nerve ending. There weren’t any other symptoms.

The journey from “I have a pain in my neck” to “you have cancer”, was short and far from sweet. Before I could blink she had endured her first round of chemo and was gearing up for much more to come. Her daily routine sounded more like that of a pin cushion in a Bangkok tailor rather than of a beautiful, successful, young woman enjoying life overseas.

Working for a cancer-related organisation, I write public education articles on the subject all day long. I can rattle off statistics like; “26,000 people are diagnosed with cancer in Hong Kong every year.” I can tell you that the most common form of cancer in women is breast cancer with approximately 8 people diagnosed every day.

But what I couldn’t tell you before is how it actually feels to have someone you love so much diagnosed with something so cruel and unforgiving. It’s a strange and difficult place to be in, trying to answer questions like ‘why her’ when there is absolutely no rhyme or reason.

It’s tough when the only thing that doesn’t discriminate is actually evil, sneaky and unwelcome. It feels similar to a 500kg weight sitting on your chest, pinning down your arms and legs while you watch a train come screaming towards you. You feel helpless.

You find yourself in a constant state of moaning “It’s not fair” but your whingeing invariably now gets you nowhere. She is still having chemo. She is still going to be tested, tired and feeling unwell.

Her diary is still going to be full of trips to the hospital, injections to promote white blood cells that cause her body to ache like an old woman, nutrition facts and figures and diet dos and don’ts, alternative therapies, complementary therapies, second opinions, head scarves and hats. For a 25 year old model living her life at Ferrari speed, this is hard to swallow.

However, on a day to day basis she fronts up to the party with the same outlook on life as she did before, with the same tenacity and resolve that would make any Taurus weak at the knees. Her motivation and her ability to look past this moment, to life beyond the present is an addictive show to watch.

Screen shot 2013 02 08 at 1.16.44 PM The 3 words I never wanted my friend to say.

“It’s the fact that she can’t physically do as much as she is used to.”

For her the most frustrating part of this ride is not the unpredictable waves of nausea, the pain, the phonebook of medical professionals that she spends her weeks hopping between, the marathon chemo sessions, the countless blood tests, the constant poking and prodding.

It’s the fact that she can’t physically do as much as she is used to.

Her life is on hold briefly and she has no other choice right now than to just suck it up and do what she has to do. For someone that struggles to sit still in a movie, this is no mean feat. Patience is a virtue that she’s never really had time to acquire.

Generally speaking I have a tendency to be quite cynical and I definitely wouldn’t say that I have a propensity to be ‘glass half full’ all the time.

However, these days whenever I find myself getting all caught up in the ‘now’ (mostly just blubbering on the couch to my partner about head scarves and treatment and “WHY HER”), something clicks in my brain and pacifies my craziness.

I am grateful.

All of a sudden I have this ability to see the forest for the trees and I find myself thanking the heavens above for that pain that kept her up at night. I am so grateful that she listened to her gut instinct, something that I often ignore.

All of a sudden I’m fist pumping for modern medicine and those smart people that spend half their lives studying to become a doctor. But most of all, just like her, I am grateful that her family and friends are there supporting her. Without this special little mixed bag of all kinds of wonderful, she might not have the opportunities and positive endings that are ahead of her. I know that, and so does she.

Every day in my job, I am preaching the importance of early detection and not ignoring the warning signs. Unfortunately as the cliché goes; you don’t actually understand the full worth of those words until something like this happens so close to home. Awareness and early detection is everything and these days, we can’t stress it enough.

I’d like to thank my beautiful friend for showing me what true strength looks like, for being someone for me to look up to and be proud of.  But also for giving me and everyone I know a wakeup call; you are not invincible. There is no such thing as ‘too young or too healthy’. Look after yourself and if you notice any abnormalities or changes in your body – get them checked out by your doctor. Cancer does not reward sticking your head in the sand.

“You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, so… get on your way!” Dr. Seuss

 Emma-Louise is a writer and editor living in Hong Kong. Follow her on Twitter here and read her blog here.

How do you cope when a loved one is diagnosed with a serious illness?

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17 Comments so far

  1. ash mackinnon

    Pity we are so far behind in Oz. My late wife was forced to USA in 2006 for state of the art treatment available at the time in hospitals all over the world. It was too late for her, the cancer was eradicated but her liver failed from too many bouts of chemo. The last couple of yrs were great though as the treatment she had has no side effects and only takes 1 day. My wife was able to really enjoy this time with our kids and me. She saw our sons 1st day of school and had several extra Christmases and birthdays. Since her passing I have campaigned to get Cyberknife to Australia. Unfortunately I had to do this with the massive cancer debt I was left with. The Govt refused to help even though they have a fund, MTOP, for exactly the purpose. I ended up losing everything but continued my quest to get this cancer treatment to OZ. This year I was successful. perth will offer Australias 1st Cyberknife centre, 7 yrs after I began. I was niominated for Australian of the year this year as a result. I have written a book about our journey which includes Oprah, patrick Swayze, Kyle and Jackie O. I am using proceeds to get a 2nd Cyberknife to Melb, who had already approved and funded it, but the new Govt has changed priorities.
    You can help – https://www.facebook.com/pages/Australian-Cyberknife-cancer-treatment-information/105566542806361?ref=hl

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  2. Adrienne Benson

    I have so much to say but don’t know how to say it.Your friend is a remarkable young lady.x

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  3. Anon58

    My best friend and cousin said two words to me. It’s cancer.
    She died 10 years ago and I still miss her every day. I sincerely hope your friend has a better outcome. I’m sure you will be there to support her.

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  4. shoppercaz

    Those stats just dont seem right to me. 2900 people diagnosed with cancer in Hong Kong each year? HK has a population of 7million. Australia has a population of 21million and we are expecting 125,000 people to be diganosed this year (from Cancer Council website). That would mean HK has an incredibly low cancer rate per capita. And did you mean 8 people in HK are diagnosed with breast cancer each day or 8 people in Australia? Just curious, as i find it interesting how different countries and cultures have different incidence of cancers and how diet and lifestyle must affect it.

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    • shoppercaz

      I see its been changed now to 26,000. I look forward to the day when the cancer stats really are as low as first written :-)

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  5. anon

    I know what its like to have someone you love get cancer.
    I know what its like to have that loved one die from said cancer.
    Its shit.

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  6. Violet

    I’ve recently quit my job (finishing up soon). It’s a well paying, stable job, but i hate it. I’ve always dreamed of travelling and starting my own business, and i am soon to do both. A friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer at 28, and it was a huge wake up call. I am 28 this year. Every day i silently thank him for giving me the courage to take a risk and live MY life.

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  7. Katie

    My mum was diagnosed with breast cancer late last year. She is on round three of chemo, and has been given quite a good prognosis (as far as these things go) as they caught it early and it hasn’t spread anywhere. When she told me, I thought I was going to stop breathing. All I could think was, my worst fear is coming true. It has been the biggest lesson of my life, to take nothing and nobody for granted. For that, I am grateful. I am grateful for every piece of good news my Mum gets, as I know a lot of others don’t get the same. I will never see life in quite the same light again, and I am glad.

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    • ParisChic

      I had a similar realisation a few months at the funeral of the second-last of my grandparent’s generation in the family. I was so upset (almost hysterical) as I realised my grandmother, my rock, the one person who has really been there for me, probably had a fairly short time left alive at 88. Since, I have made an effort to see her once a week and bring her a posy or something I’ve cooked etc, and help her with anything that needs doing around the place, then we’ll do the crossword and target, have dinner and chat. I’m so glad I realised, regret is horrible.

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      • Anon58

        Good on you for realizing this before the inevitable happens. I lost all of my 18 Uncles and Aunties a few years back. It sucks.

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  8. Belle

    I got my diagnosis on Wednesday and it is the most surreal experience. I’ve been told it’s the “best” cancer to get because it’s easy to cure if caught early, so I guess I’m lucky.
    You do just suck it up and get on with it because there’s no option. The most amazing thing I have found is how quickly your friends and family show their colours. My friends are the most beautiful people as are some of my family. The “out of inner circle” friends and colleagues are equally fabulous.
    It’s going to be an interesting journey.

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    • Guest

      Stay strong. Wishing you a speedy and long term recovery x

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  9. workingmumof3

    It seems to be something the men in my life say to me … My astoundingly fit and healthy brother at the age of 29 (burkitts type non Hodgkin’s lymphoma – six months of 1 week of chemo and 3 weeks to recover) – he’s just turned 42….. My husband – tumour on his spinal cord, a dizzying journey of misdiagnosis (given 6 months to live) and a rollercoaster of surgery and rehab… Still alive, but physically impacted every day…. My dad, felled eventually by a “sneaky little bastard” (melanoma) aged 64…. You tell them you love them, you show them you are there – whether it’s flying interstate every 3 weeks to move in and look after them and change their sheets or going to every doctors appointment and taking notes, you hold them whilst they sob with the pain and fear, you find someone to help and support you and you get lots and lots of information. You hold hope for them when they lose it. And if they are dying you help them with that too.

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  10. Narelle

    I am 47 years and the only person close to me to have had cancer was a close freind who happened to die from a heart attack early last year. Then in May my 18 year old nephew was diagnosed with luekemia. If that wasn’t enough I then found out one of my closest friends over the last 30 years had breast cancer. It’s safe to say 2012 was not my favourite year. Yet it was probably the year that taught me the most. About myself, what’s really important in life and about what in the wider scheme of things really doesn’t matter. Before last year I spent a lot of time worry about work, money etc. Now I’ve changed jobs to one with yes less money, but I am so much happier. I appreciate my family and friends more and enjoy everyday. Cancer is a horrible thing that hurts a lot of people, but if we can all learn something and change our out look because of it, then I feel in some small way we are paying our respect to those that weren’t so lucky.

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  11. anon

    oh, I thought it was ” I LOVE YOU”…
    because thats the end of the friendship…
    Cancer might just be the real beginning…
    just a though

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  12. princessmelli

    We had a friend diagnosed with MS, then a few weeks later another friend was diagnosed with Breast Cancer-4 weeks before I had my 1st baby and I was regularly hospitalized with Pre-Eclampsia.
    My friends did what they always do and tried to find the lighter side.
    Two years later I was diagnosed with a heart condition, and thank goodness for that laughter.
    Laughing at something as serious as cancer can make it easier to deal with-not so scary. Try not to let your friend see how upset you are, she will need your strength. Also, see the person, not the disease…they are still your friend, who just happens to have cancer.
    I wish your friend the best of health

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