A FEW DAYS BEFORE MY OPERATION, I CALL SOME FRIENDS WHO WANT TO SEE ME BEFORE THE PROCEDURE. PERFECT, I WANTED TO HAVE A FEW DRINKS WITH MY HUSBAND ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON ANYWAY, SO THEY CAN JOIN US. BUT THE TIME DOESN’T SUIT MY FRIEND AMALIA, SO SHE WILL COME ANOTHER TIME. I FEEL A BIT ANNOYED… BUT ALSO RELIEVED. AND I RECOGNISE THAT THIS HAPPENS TO ME MORE OFTEN IN MY SOCIAL CONTACTS SINCE I GOT CANCER. WHY? AM I BECOMING UNAPPROACHABLE? | ARTICLE ORIGINALLY WRITTEN FOR THE DUTCH PLATFORM “SHIT OR SHINE”
Unapproachable, or not?
It’s three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon. I just got a call from the hospital to inform me that my operation is scheduled for next Monday morning. Finally! I have been waiting for this. I’m not nervous, but I do want to reserve an afternoon to spend with my husband before the rollercoaster begins. A Friday afternoon with snacks and wine. My friends Sarah and Amalia want to join, so they said. But Amalia has an appointment with her personal trainer that she can’t re-schedule or skip. She asks if she can come later in the evening. For me, that would be a bit late, and I tell her so. Then she wants to come over the weekend, but I want to reserve those days for my family. I feel a hint of irritation. So, feeling somewhat apologetic and somewhat irritated, I tell her: “Don’t feel obligated, there will be another time.” In part, I also feel relieved. I notice that I feel more and more distanced from her. Why is that?
Since I got cancer, I more frequently recognise these feelings in my social interactions. Not only with friends but also with casual acquaintances. For example, someone sent me a message a week after my first chemotherapy, inviting me to go for a walk. This is someone from town who normally just waves at me when we bump into each other. I didn’t even know this person had my phone number; let alone how they got it. In this case too, I felt uncomfortable and somewhat apologetic, but honestly, I had no desire to go at all.
In moments like these, I think: “Is cancer making me unapproachable?” Why?
But it’s not always like this. Take this example: I went to the hospital for a CT scan, a few weeks after my mastectomy. The radiologist says to me: “Take off your bra.” I smile and look at her, and I say: “I’m not wearing a bra.” We look into each other’s eyes, and I continue: “I don’t have breasts.” I see the shock in her eyes as she realises, but we hold each other’s gaze and… burst out laughing. Then she asks me a few questions: she wants to know how I’m doing and how I find the whole process. The CT scan proceeds, and the interaction lasts no more than 10 minutes from start to finish, but I leave with a huge smile.
So, what’s going on? Why do I let some people get closer and not others?
There is always a good intention behind it
Let’s start with these principles: people act with good intentions. And I know it’s difficult for those around me to know what’s right. They are walking on eggshells.
So, if I know this, why do I still find ‘noise’ in some of my interactions? Have I always been like this? … There was a time of parties, reunions until the early hours, dancing until our feet hurt. That’s true. What is also true is that I have always preferred deep bonds, even if that means fewer friendships. At the same time, I’ve always enjoyed striking up a conversation with a stranger on the street, that’s also true. But not with everyone.
Connections in ‘high contrast’
This is because I have always had the need to truly connect with the people around me. That’s how I engage, and I kind of expect the same coming from my contacts. Since I got cancer, it seems like I see everything through a high-contrast filter. Specifically: I have become more sensitive to the absence of connection. At the same time, I need this true connection even more. Authenticity has become more important to me.
This applies to my friendships as well as to contact with acquaintances, and also with people on the street. The most important thing is that it feels authentic, sincere. Not all friends want to drop or change their things to accommodate my schedule. And really that’s fine, as long as the contact is sincere and not pretentious. Personally, I prefer a greeting with a broad smile from someone who sees me passing by on the street, rather than forcibly trying to ‘do something big and noble’, which our relationship was never based on. It doesn’t fit, it feels forced and uncomfortable. Despite the undoubtedly good intention. It seems less authentic to me.
What to do? Some tips
So, for me, less is more. I have become a tad more selective. Is this the perfect solution? No, there is a clear downside: this could lead me to isolation, of course. Even so, it is a conscious choice. I feel this is best for me. Does this apply to all people with cancer? Of course not, everyone has their own way and their own needs regarding their social contacts. And what works for me may not work for someone else. However, there are some tips I’d like to give:
For the environment, those walking on eggshells
- Ask the person (find a suitable time and manner) what they need and what’s comfortable. Do it sincerely; they can feel that and is more likely to get you an equally sincere response and less awkwardness.
- Listen. Really listen, respect wishes and boundaries. It’s not about satisfying your own need to ‘do good’, but about what the person needs, can, and wants to receive from you.
- Be consistent. If you want to stay close to the person, stay close. If, on the contrary, your priorities honestly don’t allow you to maintain contact, that’s also fine, but don’t expect or force closeness.
- Offer practical help, such as cooking or doing some groceries. Here too applies, what is appropriate and sincere. For example, if the person is a mum of another child at school, offer to pick up the children after school.
For those going through something similar to my experience
- Keep in mind that people act with good intentions. They do so with goodwill, and it’s very difficult for them to estimate what’s right for you.
- Be honest, especially with yourself. Answer sincerely and be clear about your needs, wishes, and boundaries.
- Be mild. With yourself and with others, perfection doesn’t exist.
Ultimately, it’s about supporting each other in ways that really help. And that can be achieved by truly connecting with each other. Acknowledging the space availabe, without forcing things. A small and sincere gesture can be the seed of a great friendship.
