My father in law died within weeks of a diagnosis of brain cancer, all i could really do was make sure the music he loved was playing in his room and make sure all the rest of the family was fed.

Long time lurker, first time I've been moved to post here.

IMO a very important thing is to take your cues from the person who has the disease.

If they want to talk, listen. If they don't want to talk, don't push them to. If they ask for your help, do what you can to give it. If you offer to help, follow through on it.

Remember this is about them and not you- don't let your reaction to their illness/impending death interfere with giving them what they need or want from you.

Agree, Beemer. Cathy, for example, hated when people would give her suggestions for treatment. She had cancer doctors at Cedars Sinai, and she followed their suggestions for treatment, and was not interested in the opinions of people who had a friend of a friend who blah blah blah...

The thing guaranteed to send my blood pressure soaring was when well-meaning friends would send my mother, who had terminal brain cancer, cheerful "get well" cards. She wasn't freaking going to get well, damn it. It was excruciating to have to read those cards to her, and it was hurtful to her to have to get those greetings.

If people have to send a card, they should send a "thinking of you" card, instead.

Thanks, Omnibus - that's a good one. And thanks, everybody who's commenting. Sad to read these, but your comments might end up helping other people.

Amy, good topic. Here's the email I just wrote earlier today.

"Jeannie:

Well it has been nearly a month since I received that awful news. I hope you didn't think I would not tender a personal reply. On the contrary, I wanted time to let the news sink in and to consider what I might be able to tell you.

I remember vividly my first encounter with you; July, 2006. Bea & I had just secured a hotel room in Casis, France and had walked down to dinner by the waterfront. Upon our return I checked email and included on the old 350 mailing list was one from you an Sharon inquiring as to the status of the handyman still in the employ of Teedy at 350, something about a living wage.

And if you recall, I went off on you. Seems, silly, now, bit what I remember especially is how you didn't take particular offense and in fact seemed to welcome a lively debate. So I gained a large amount of respect for you right there. So many people whine, take offense, get bent out of shape, and so on.

Even still, I had no idea we'd become friends and that I would enjoy being Jeannie & Sharon's go-to guy when need arose, such as the pilot light, planters in the pool area, and so on.

I cherish that even when we tangled--like when I told Nilda to eff off after rearranging the pool furniture--you offered to have me tell you to eff off instead. And then, when we moved the big palms down for the guy purchasing them and I did my thing with the guy in the cripple mobile whining about us blocking his way. You gave me that "look."

I'll cherish it.

I loved the visits, especially when you had Jamison's on hand, because then I could get a little buzzed and end up with a great conversation with you and Sharon.

And as much as I hate to say it, I even loved the election parties. I think I showed up to all of them I could, even though I never vote.

I guess is all goes to say that you made your mark with me, I'll never forget it, and I will always endeavor to reflect on my wonderful experience with you from time to time.

Love and well wishes,

Richard

Thank you so much for sharing that.

When my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer he wanted the end of his life to be like the rest, a constant party. We were sad of course, but he wanted people around him to laugh and share stories and memories. His funeral was like a high school reunion. People from his childhood as well as mine came and all shared a lot of laughs remembering the good times. I know not everyone handles it that way, but honestly as much as I miss my dad, I always remember him smiling.

I have had more than one friend who has fought a losing battle with a terminal disease. I think the thing you need to keep in mind is that the funeral is coming for all of us. Just because their time of death is almost certainly going to be coming more quickly than yours, is no reason to go all maudlin or to promote false hopes. In that vein, they should be treated no differently than you treat your currently healthy friends and relatives. You should keep your topics trivial and interesting. In short talk about your mutual interests. I have a friend who is currently battling lymphoma. He may not make it for more than the next few months but I want to spend time with him while he is still here and healthy enough to do some things that we both enjoy, even if we are only talking on the phone. His chemotherapy has not been working and he is getting sicker. Since he is a medical professional he has more inside knowledge of what they do next and so we talk about that. I offer to help in any way I can, and call him almost every week as he lives several hours from me. He seems to enjoy that as I am sure it does not tax his limited strength as much as me going down there in person although my husband and I will probably be making that trip this next week if he feels up to it. People tend to flee from the terminally ill. I had a old family friend, who was the younger brother of a man who I dated for several years. When he was in the hospital a few months before he died I went to visit and we talked about what we had done as kids and of course, his family, my family, and his brother.
We also talked about chocolate chip cookies. :-) The last thing he wanted was me walking in there acting like I was already at the funeral. His wife told me after he died that I was the only one who visited him in the hospital other than his immediate family. She was quite grateful for that. I guess some people just can't handle it and I understand why. It is just as difficult to visit with people who have recently lost a loved one. I went to visit a friend in law school one day only to find that not only was he not at home, but his 22 year old roommate was, and had just gotten a call a couple of hours earlier that his mother had committed suicide (she was terminally ill and in a great deal of pain) This was the first time I had ever had to deal with something like this and this was in New Jersey. I am from Wyoming. We ended up talking about hunting, which he was very interested in and I knew a great deal about as my father was a gunsmith who specialized in high power big game hunting rifles. It was a much better topic than how sorry I was about his mother's death. I didn't know her and it would have been a platitude. Someone spending time with him and diverting his mind from his pain was what he needed. Isabel

The not fleeing thing is very important. Okay, so it's difficult to face mortality. Buck up. You don't have to go through chemo.

And I would guess, as was my experience with Cathy, many or even most cancer patients don't want to talk about cancer. On the days I was there (Wednesdays and Thursdays) Cathy was just happy to have me sit there and write at her kitchen table, talk with her when she felt like it, and watch "Everybody Loves Raymond" with her.

Her tenant (from the apartment or apartments she owned) would come home and cook her dinner and stay the night, and I'd go home. She used to joke that she was a slumlord. Yeah. How many slumlords have their tenants move in with them and take care of them when they're not at work? Good guy.

It depends on the individual and the circumstances.

My grandfather went down hill very quickly and lost touch with reality. He kept complaining that the nuns were forcing him to sign over the property in Montana. We don't know of any nuns around at that time or of any property he ever owned on Montana. Basically, you just tried to keep him calm and relatively happy & comfortable. Before that He didn't want people to come by and seem him getting weaker. If people would call, he would say he was too busy to have a visitor.

My father was recently diagnosed with a degenerative disease. Given how it has proceeded so far and his age the doctor figures standard old age things will affect him more. Still, it is this kind of uncomfortable thing...he could all of sudden plunge. Occasionally he wants to talk about it. It is hard for me as I am used to seeing my father as being extremely capable and he was having trouble just walking on uneven ground.

How many slumlords have their tenants move in with them and take care of them when they're not at work?

Did he move into the servant's quarters?

I am a healer and have some clients come to me with a "terminal" prognosis. I do not profess to cure anyone. Healing may simply be supporting them return to Source full of love and dignity. My clients crack jokes and laugh, something they feel unable to do with the ones they love. I meet them where they are at.The carer is often in more in need of support than the person who is "Ill". Laughter truly is the best medicine. It softens and opens the heart. x from kate Co. mayo, Ireland

Did he move into the servant's quarters?

Hah. He slept in the bedroom Maia left empty when she went to college, I think.

This a subject that hits home for me (very recently too). I've been through three close family members dying over the past 9 years. All needed hospice care (two with cancer). It is gut wrenching to be helpless as you watch someone close to you go through the pain until they finally lose their life (and the indignities they must undergo). Then, after they are gone, begins a hard process to come to grips with it and somehow return to 'normalcy'.

I wish I could say I saw a pattern or formula that definitely worked across the board. I did not see that. What I can say is there seemed to be some comfort taken with (and maybe these are obvious things):
-When I talked to them I talked to them. It wasn't all about the cancer/the illness or the harsh circumstances. A TV show or a book or just tell a good joke....I tried my best to relax and just have a good conversation (though that will vary on the person and whether they are having a 'good day' or 'bad day').
-When the subject of dying was brought up by them, I tried taking a page out of the Disney movie The Lion King, sort of, about the circle of life that we all belong to together.
-Maybe this was my own internal worry but I avoided speaking of things happening down the line (though that didn't help in the relaxed approach to conversation).
- This may seem odd (and even a bit selfish but difficult times like that can be a challenge to "maintain") but when overcome with a bit of emotion, it seemed to make them feel better to dole out some comforting words (again, I know that seems odd but it seemed to have a positive effect).
-Assuring them in a calm way, when they need it, that the people (and even things) close to them will be taken care of. Family members or pets.....those people will be ok/taken care of.
Beyond conversation:
-Provide them with as many familiar things and surroundings as possible (if they are still in the hospital, get them home as soon as it is possible!)
- Just as with anyone, a nice bath can do a lot to make them feel a bit better even if for just a little while.

Within that topic, somewhat, I'd also pass on this about the 'process of cancer':
- It is crucial for the person to have an advocate. Someone pushing the doctors and peppering them with questions and covering as many angles as possible. Someone who will educate themselves, if necessary, and walk in with a clipboard to be able to talk in the know to the doctors (and document conversations!). There are tons and tons of resources to read and people out there to talk to (even online chat sessions in the middle of the night with the government cancer institute). It is a positive thing to them and those around them (and even to the person doing it) to gain as much knowledge as possible.

-Trust the doctor(s) modestly at best. There is no single play out of the playbook that will work (or not work) across the board. Do not assume "he/she must know best". Don't assume the medical industry is an open and honest process that arrived at Doctors having the best options available. I was VERY fortunate to have a close family member who works at BMS. She had very good access to drug information and very knowledgeable human resources. Ultimately, I found, one who is terminal means the disease will take your life eventually. However, how long it takes to do that and the quality of life during that time is not Doctor Says X + Treatment Y Doesn't Work = Go home and die. Trust me, I saw it first hand (though not with my 3 family members), the life expectancy can be way beyond what they expect. Doctors can be wrong about the course of action (and I'd best it is more frequently than people believe).
- And to the uglier side of the medical care process, what hospital they were at mattered A LOT. Relaying first hand (we made sure someone was always there when they were in the hospital....even taking turns staying over night), I/we got a round the clock view of what was happening. Not to impugn everyone at the hospital at all... but some of the things I saw (specifically from a few nurses) was very troubling. Lacking compassion to apathy to 'I'm in a bad mood and/or having a bad day and I hate the world (with care and attention that was equal to their attitude). That was an unfortunate eye opener.....

I hope my experiences can help others....

My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago (not terminal). She is most annoyed with the people who disappeared, especially at her church, where the priest, deacon, and head layperson did nothing, not a call, not a visit. It soured her on the church.

I'll also add that it's important to support the families of those who are ill, too. My father continued to work while attending every appointment and seeing mom through chemo, radiation, and multiple surgeries. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, by the end. I think they leaned on each other a lot, but it is still useful for outsiders to help out, especially I suspect in cases where one person is not going to get better.

I think what Astra said about not disappearing is the most important thing. I was blessed when my father was dying that people were coming out of the woodwork to be with him. It was the same with my boyfriend's father. People just wanted to be around so if there were those who disappeared, we didn't notice. I do know people who have had many friends and loved ones disappear because they did not know what to say or do so it was easier to avoid the awkwardness by disappearing. From my experience I would say that you have to take your cues from the person who is dying but most would like a friendly face even if its just sitting there silently.

What you say or don't say obviously depends on the individual. Years ago when I had a non-life-threatening cancer, I was incensed when my aunt sent me a book about a diet to avoid cancer. On the other hand, not being a religious believer, I was mildly annoyed to hear people hear they'd pray for me. But some patients may like that stuff.

2½ years ago my wife was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer (they can slow it down but not stop it). The two of us probably haven't talked about it more than a dozen times. She copes about it by thinking & doing other things, and I try to be as supportive as I can.

She said to me recently that having this illness is very lonely: people really can't understand what it's like. However, while she doesn't have the energy or inclination to talk with people all the time, she does like talking to people.

Yet some of her erstwhile friends have deserted her.

Another thing: it's important to remember that even with a serious diagnosis like hers, people can often lead normal lives for many years. Her doctor has never used the word "terminal", or said what average life expectancy is. My wife doesn't want to know, so we're making plans as if it'll be awhile.

It is sometimes amazing how people can rise up and help each other sometimes. The "Team Cathy" idea makes me hope for a better future.

Sometimes you can be amazed how diverse communities can come together to help each other. Even ones that you would not thing help or give a god damn about.

From my personal experience with breast cancer, the one thing that really annoyed me was people telling me: "I know you're going to be just fine". That just seemed to minimalize any justifiable fear that I might have. I understood that that they were just trying to be positive, but they didn't KNOW that everything was going to be fine.

I also agree with the others who said to LISTEN and don't try and tell people about everyone else they know who had the same thing, and surely don't imply (by sending a patient a "how I beat cancer through diet", etc book or something similar) that somehow it's their fault that they got sick i.e. if you just weren't overweight or if you just exercised more or if you....

As far as remembering the family of the dying person, I think that's really important.

When my cousin was dying, some friends of his, people I barely knew ,crammed his ICU room without even asking if we ever wanted a few moments alone with him.

Sure, they had befriended him the last few years of his life, which was great, but we were trying to say goodbye to a family member.

They didn't really seem to have any respect for our feelings or privacy.

in a weird way, it seemed as if it were more important for them to all celebrate how helpful they all imagined they were being rather than asking us what our feelings were.

My advice is: if you're friends with someone who's terminally ill, always be aware that the family members need privacy and time alone with the person.

When my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer he wanted the end of his life to be like the rest, a constant party. We were sad of course, but he wanted people around him to laugh and share stories and memories. His funeral was like a high school reunion. People from his childhood as well as mine came and all shared a lot of laughs remembering the good times. I know not everyone handles it that way, but honestly as much as I miss my dad, I always remember him smiling.