I visited a friend who’s in the middle of chemo treatments—11 more weeks to go. Ugh. I didn’t know her that well a few months ago, but once she was diagnosed, the cancer-survivor part of me kicked in. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Or neither, maybe; it’s just a thing. It’s like an alter-ego that only comes out to play when the Big C visits people I know. I get this urge to be there for that person the way I wish someone had been there for me. Truth be told, though, I’ve been hit-or-miss with people over the past 17 years since I was diagnosed. Sometimes it just brought up so much crap for me that I couldn’t get over myself to do much of anything. And sometimes I’d take a small step and then crumble or fumble or something. But … my desire to be there for others in the midst of health crises has never gone away. So this time I really wanted to stay with that urge.

I went there to find out what she might need, how I could help—even if it was just to listen or distract her for a bit. And in that 25-minute visit, I learned a lot about myself. Mostly I found that I wanted to “help” more than I wanted to comfort, which is a very common pitfall. What was shocking was that I was even momentarily tempted to say the things that I swore I’d never say, the things that were so unhelpful when I was in her shoes—or slippers, as the case may be. So, I thought I would share my Top 10 Things NOT to Say to Someone Who’s Ill.

1. “You’ll be fine in no time”—or any of the myriad variations on this theme. Our intentions are great; we want to help someone be positive. At least, that’s what we tell ourselves. The fact is, we say this when we are the ones who can’t deal with sadness, grief, or ambiguity, which means we then can’t be with someone else’s sadness, grief, or ambiguity. Whether or not this statement is true is totally irrelevant. The point is to be with the person where they are at that moment in time—not project into the future. I can tell you this with all sincerity: if that person is feeling depressed or wrestling with sickness, pain, and fatigue while you’re visiting, projecting into the future means you are actually leaving them alone in those feelings at that very moment. We don’t have to fix the person or make them feel better.  That’s not our job. They just need us to be with them. Right then, right there. That’s all. It’s more simple—and yet harder—than we think.
2. “My cousin had the exact same thing, and she visited a holistic healer who worked a miracle. You should totally go see this healer.” It’s pretty rare when a friend’s illness— combined with her personal health history, age, gender, ethnicity, etc.—completely line up with your cousin’s situation. Unless you are also your friend’s physician, don’t assume you know exactly what they have and how it can be “cured.” Your friend probably already has plenty of doctors to consult with—she doesn’t need yet another piece of advice. What she really needs is a friend. If she asks you for resources, herbal remedies, alternative foods, recommended doctors or healers, by all means share what you know. Wait to be asked, though.
3. “Is that [surgery or treatment] really necessary? I’ve read about this new procedure …” Or, at the opposite end of the spectrum: “How do they know for sure if they got it all?” I got both of these comments and more before, during, and after 10.5 weeks of radiation treatment. My sister-in-law, a nuclear medical technician, was convinced that I needed more than CT scans to be sure that I was clear of cancer. I assume she had positive intentions but … seriously? I began doubting my doctors. There’s a delicate balance between a patient’s personal responsibility to understand and engage in her treatment, while still partnering with—and trusting in—her medical team. Don’t need get yourself entangled in your friend’s prognosis, her course of treatment, or whether it’s “working.” Ask her what she’s thinking and feeling, and let her get that off her chest. That is healing in and of itself.
4. “I remember when I was going through my heart transplant. At the time I felt really good and positive about the future. But then, about 10 years later, I started getting panic attacks.” Yes, this was really said to me, too, by a coworker. If you are clairvoyant or have personal experience with the ups and downs of serious or chronic illness, you do not need to share your knowledge with your friend. In this case, sharing is NOT caring. Use your all-knowing powers for good: make sure that you’re there for her if something should suddenly take a turn.
5. Similar to #4: “When *I* was going through treatment …” This is just a twist on what parents say to their children when they’re  trying to show empathy but what they’re really doing is seeking healing of their own past. Your friend has her own story that is currently unfolding. Listen to hers, if she chooses to share. (And if she’s not ready or in the mood that day, don’t push it.) Then get your own therapist to heal yours.
6. “You can’t be scared—you have faith, don’t you?” Fear and faith are not mutually exclusive; in fact, they’re quite often different sides of the same coin. Don’t make her feel like she’s a spiritual light-weight because she’s scared—whether it’s about the next treatment, the future, or anything, for that matter. Instead, ask her if there’s anything you can do to help. Give her space to express her fear, and just sit with her in the not knowing. It may go away and come back—a lot. It’s all part of the process.
7. “Just keep a positive attitude. Y’know, studies show that people who have a positive attitude experience fewer side effects in treatment, heal more quickly, and live longer.” I believe in the power of positive thinking. And … I know that very positive people still die—some of them even die very quickly. Were they just not trying hard enough to be positive? Don’t tell her what or how to think. Go along on the journey right alongside her. Ask her if she wants to watch some old “I Love Lucy” shows or the latest stand-up special on Comedy Central. If she does, great. If she’s not interested, ask her if she might be interested on another day and set a date.
8. “Everything happens for a reason,” or any talk of the law of attraction. This idea of creating our own reality gets a bit dicey when applied to things like cancer, people who are raped or murdered, or children born into extreme poverty and starvation. Were they responsible for attracting that? I really, really wrestled with this philosophy when I was sick with Wegener’s granulomatosis a few years ago. It’s an uncommon autoimmune disease, which means the body is essentially attacking its own healthy tissue. I thought to myself, of course—you’ve been mentally attacking yourself for decades so now it’s just manifesting physically. Beating myself up for what I could’ve done differently does not make for a healing mindset. I like what Stephen Levine says in his Conscious Living/Conscious Dying workshops: You’re not responsible for your cancer, you’re responsible to it. He says we are taking a “sickness teaching.” It’s quite possible that somewhere down the line your friend may see her illness as a blessing in disguise. Let her reach that conclusion—or not—in her own time. Help her take care of herself now, in the present moment.
9. “You look really good!” Let me just say, it’s very inconsiderate to lie to someone who’s sick. She’s ill, not stupid. Don’t focus on her appearance at all. Bring her some fun, outrageous socks or the latest DVDs, or a fluffy new pillow. If she doesn’t need any of these things, don’t worry—she’ll find a use for them.
10. Saying nothing—as in, no communication. I know, I’ve told myself this story: I don’t know what to say to her, so … I’ll call her later. And before you know it, months have passed and you still haven’t called, visited, or sent a card. Here, instead, are four things you can say:
    • “I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing. How are you feeling?”
    • “I was thinking about you today—do you wanna hear the latest news on [fill in the blank with something she’s interested in]?”
    • “Would you like some company sometime next week? I’d love to come see you, if you’re up for it. And ‘no’ is a totally fine answer, too.”
    • And when you do visit her, after about 20 minutes say, “I should go now.” It really is about quality time, not quantity, especially if the person is in pain or having a less-than-wonderful day.