We were gathered. As is usual during wakes, there was a sharing of experience. The bereaved wife, my classmate, with the promptings of my other classmates, shared the what's, the when's, the how's and everything in between. And then, in the middle of it all, one of my classmates said, "Nasuko jud ko nimo, ay. Ngano'ng wala ka nagsulti? Dapat nag-istorya ka para naa'y makatabang." ("I am mad at you. Why didn't you tell anyone? You should have said something so that you could have been helped.") And she said it with so much passion. And then one of my other classmates seconded--vehemently, "Bitaw, dapat nagsulti ka para makakuha unta ka ug ideya sa uban tao, ba." ("I agree. You should have said something so you could have gotten some ideas from other people.")
I stood there: speechless, shocked at this incredible display of attitude. They actually sounded offended like they had been wronged. I watched my grieving friend, ready to jump to her rescue, but she looked to me like she was capable of handling things herself. I had known of the situation and had listened to the reasons for their 'secrecy' and actually offered my opinion on the matter, but respected their wishes.
When we finally left the funeral parlor, we continued to discuss the issue, and I took the chance to explain to them that the couple had their own way of facing things, and that we could not impose our beliefs on another. And reminded them that our friend already had so much on her plate without our 'blaming' her on anything.
I have been where my friend was at that moment. Maybe not in the exact same situation. After all, she lost a husband to cancer. While I lost my mother. And niece. And Auntie. And Uncle. To cancer.
Remembering my experiences, I could only empathize and sympathize with my friend. I had known the drill. First was the shock. Then, the confusion. Then the denial. Then the fear and then panic. Then the bargaining. Then the resignation. And then enthusiasm to look for cure. And then the juggling of all these emotions all throughout the process.
I am a member of the Amuma Cancer Support Group Foundation. When Mama was diagnosed with cancer, I panicked and I was blessed to have encountered this group. I had seen a cancer awareness poster and Amuma's name was there. I then went to the address, and became a member. Although I become less active after Mama died, I would still sometimes go to the meetings.
The last meeting that we had, a Camellian priest gave a talk on how to care for patients. He touched on the stages of dealing with a disease--a terminal illness, and confronting death.
Knowing and understanding these stages would lead to understanding, and therefore, better care of these patients. And caregivers would know where to place themselves.
So, what should caregivers do?
> Give them emotional security
- Respect them. Start with the greetings. If the patient is a stranger, introduce yourself first. Fr. Brian said that even patients in a coma are actually conscious, so you need to greet them and introduce yourself. In a normal way. They have cancer. They haven't lost their ears. Unless otherwise indicated.
- Accept them. They are the same persons. Just with cancer. Okay, maybe they change in some aspects--physical, psychological. They may become irritable at times, especially after chemo. Or they may be distressed and depressed. And they may take it out on you. Just accept them--their normal personality and their sickness and everything that cancer entails. Be patient. It's not you. It's not them either. It's the disease.
- Listen to them--really listen. Be attentive. Know what they are saying or not saying. Cancer is not a very easy disease. It is painful. The cure is not an easy one, either. Chemo is challenging. It leaves one weak. If the patient looks mad. It's not you s/he is mad with. It's the disease. If they snapped at you when they normally wouldn't, it's the disease. If they say "I don't want to eat!" It's the disease. But they have to eat. So go look for ways to make food that may be delicious to their palate. If they want to rant their frustrations, and want to blow steam, let them. But do not give them false hope. "Oh it's just cancer. You will be cured." Do not snatch their hope, either. "You know, cancer has very little probability of survival. Just accept that it's your time." Whoa...whaaat? Open your ears. Close your mouth. If you have to open your mouth, think before you do. Ask the patient what s/he is praying for. You can pray with them for the same thing. Do not shove your idea into their throat.
- Allow them to do things for themselves. They got cancer. But they have not lost their faculties. Let them feel normalcy as much as possible.
> Let them know that you are with them to support them and love them. Whatever happens.They need to know that they are not alone in the journey.
> You can remind them that aside from you, there is Someone up there who can be depended on.
> Know the disease. Research. Learn about the sickness, the symptoms and the treatment.
> Take time for yourself. Being with patients can be very demanding. And sometimes, it can drain you. Take some time off to yourself. Re-energize. Your patient, after all, tends to absorb some energy from you. So you need to be armed with much energy.
What about to the family of the cancer patient?
Empathy. Let them know you are there. That you may not fully understand what they are going through, but that you are there for them.
Offer to do simple things if you can. Run errands. Get their groceries. Look after the children when they go to their chemo sessions. Assist in any way you can.
Provide some distraction. Invite them to a spa. Treat them to a restaurant or a movie. Or whatever they prefer to do.
Tell them what you learn about the disease, and what other people's experiences are, but do not insist on the rightfulness of your ideas. Let them decide and respect their decisions.
Again, remind them that they are not alone. That Someone up their is watching. Someone who loves them more than anything or anyone does.