My friend has cancer. How to best support her through chemo?

In My Humble Opinion
1

My friend finally told me today she has cancer. I knew something has been up for a month or so, but she kept it under wraps until she changed her work situation to something less stressful/strenuous and is now telling certain people. I think I’m the second.

She will be undergoing what her surgeon thinks can be a lumpectomy, but he and her oncologist agree some chemotherapy to see if the tumor will shrink a bit first is a good idea. I’ve gone through my mom’s cancer treatment, but hers was lumpectomy with radiation afterwards and never needed chemotherapy. My only experience with chemo was a friend in gradeschool who got so, so, sick after treatment. That was also over three decades ago.

My friend isn’t sure what to expect, and neither am I. I want to be prepared to help her in any way I can, aside from just “being there” for her. We’re both single, fiercely independent, and live alone. Her family is far away, and I’m worried she won’t ask for help when she really needs some. I don’t live terribly far away and am prepared to hop over to her place if she needs anything. Hell, I’m willing to mover her in with me temporarily, if need be. She’s a wonderful friend.

Should I stock her pantry with crackers and tea? Could she get sick enough to really need someone to get to her, like should I talk to her about getting extra keys made if I need to enter her home and she’s too sick to answer the door or something?

I’m thinking of helping her find a nice wig if her hair starts falling out. She works with the public, and is trying to be the least obvious about it, so it seems a wig may be in order. I’d like to help her get a good one, maybe now while it’s easiest to match her natural head of hair?

Treatment hasn’t started yet, she needs to have some more testing and scans done, apparently the tumor is slow growing and the oncologist thinks it’s been there for a couple of years already. So there’s time to prepare if there’s any kind of preparation that would be helpful.

Any insight from those who have been through it or supported someone through it would be a huge help!

2

She is very lucky to have such a friend.
I wouldn’t bring up any specific preparations, like wigs and such. She needs to be the one to take the lead on that if she wants that kind of help, and she may be feeling too overwhelmed by the news to want to contemplate those decisions just yet. Just tell her you are ready to support her and to let you know what you can do. Rides to chemo may be a good thing to offer at first. If she is very independent, she may want to put off accepting help as long as possible, so don’t force the issue, but let her know you are available.
And don’t forget to treat her like your friend, not just the Cancer Patient Who Needs Help.

3

Remember that chemo hits everyone differently. Offering to drive her to/from treatments could make a huge difference, as can a grocery store run.

I appreciated all of the help from family – and the offers from friends – but for about 48 hours after each treatment all I wanted was to climb into a corner and be left alone.

4

Having been through chemo – although Hodgkins, not breast cancer, so HMMV:

Having someone to either drive me to and from chemo, or at least help me home on public transit, was wonderful. I am incredibly grateful to the friends who took half a day to sit and talk with me while I had caustic things pumped into my body. (In the afternoon I pretty much just wanted to sleep.) Actually, if you have a car, or access to one, getting a ride to necessary places was awesome. The El sucks if you’re feeling hot and faint, especially if it’s crowded.

They have really good anti-emetic drugs these days, so the nausea and vomiting shouldn’t be too bad. In six months I vomited once, reported it to my oncologist the next time I was in for treatment, and they adjusted my pre- and post-chemo drugs to mitigate. It IS, however, really uncomfortable to feel like you have to vomit, but can’t. And over time, I got more and more tired and weak. So if she needs to go grocery shopping, or carry heavy objects into her house, having someone to do that would be really helpful too. Helping make sure she gets some food and water in her once she’s home from chemo, before she sleeps, is good too. The hospital will probably offer her a box lunch if her treatment takes more than 2-3 hours, but you know, hospital food. Plus it didn’t take long for my brain to give me a strong aversion to that blue cardboard box. By the end I’d get queasy just seeing it, even if I wasn’t there for chemo.

Does she have pets? During chemo she should NOT handle pet waste herself, as her immune system will be trashed. So, scooping the cat box or walking the dog.

Also, the one thing that really kept me sane through the whole thing were a couple friends who decided we were doing dinner night at my place once a week. Every Thursday we’d plan a meal, they’d show up with food, cook, clean it up, and we’d eat and talk/watch a movie/whatever for the rest of the night. It really made the whole thing a lot easier to bear, because I had that one thing I could always look forward to.

Wigs: she should be assigned a social worker who will also be helping her with quality-of-life-during-chemo stuff like this, but I can recommend Jerome Krause in Skokie. She should ask her oncologist for a prescription for a “cranial prosthetic” (yes, really!) and then her medical insurance should pay for it. Jerome Krause specializes in cancer patients, and offer a really full-service experience: you can try on as many wigs as you want before you buy, and thereafter you can return whenever you want 1> to get your wig custom-fitted, as many times as necessary to accommodate your varying volume of remaining hair, 2> to get your hair cut short and 3> to get your head shaved. Hair loss is messy, and I eventually kept waking up with hair in my eyes and up my nose, so these services were nice to have.

Also: if you have any organizational skills at all, if you can help her keep all of the damn paperwork in line that will be awesome. Nothing sucks like trying to get your hospital and insurance company to just freaking talk to each other when you’re exhausted and feel like rats are gnawing on your bones. Every chemo treatment generates ten new claim forms. The insurance company will forget to cut a check. The radiologist’s medical biller will incorrectly code the claim form. I have a stack of papers over a foot tall just from that year. It’s utter chaos and NOT something I wanted to deal with while sick. (I actually ended up hiring a professional insurance claim detangler to help me with the last of it. I didn’t even know that was a profession, but apparently it is.) Depending on how involved you might get in that process, she may need to authorize you to speak to the hospital and insurance company on her behalf in writing, but that part was the least of the hassle.

5

When my Gusband had cancer back in 1997, he also had a series of chemo treatments. As Kalo mentioned above, they have an additive that makes it so you don’t get the feelings of nausea as you used to.

I made the trips to chemo an “outing” of sorts - we got there a bit early, I sat with him and we talked, and then we would go to In 'n Out Burger (one of his favorite places, and coincidentally nearby the hospital back then) after the treatment. It was something to look forward to doing. Towards the end of his treatments, when he was a bit more tired, we would just pick up a chocolate shake and drive home and watch a movie.

The point was, instead of making the trip to the hospital a scary, sad event - I did everything to make it seem like a break from the routine and something to almost look forward to each trip. That might sound odd - but I think the psychological effect of combining the treatments with a “treat” sort of made it less stressful and helped a lot in getting through the process.

The chemo worked wonders - it was a bit tiring towards the end and yes there was hair loss, but I think the memories of that time are still of us spending some quality time together, doing something fun after the treatments, and the great relief and happiness of the great results. All these years later and it doesn’t seem like it was a bad thing at all.

Stay positive - think of something “fun” to do (if possible) afterwards - even if it a quick stop at a flower shop or buy some cake at a bakery or get some ice cream or go home and listen to music or watch a good movie - just try to make each trip to chemo tie in with something good to happen afterwards. I am a firm believer in the power of positive suggestion/thinking.

Best wishes for all to turn out great!

6

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” is the emptiest, most well-meaning statement ever. Being independent yourself you know you would never ask for help until things were so bad you were overwhelmed. Tell her you are going to clean her place weekly for the duration. Tell her to make a grocery list and you do the shopping. Or laundry, or whatever. She may not really need it at first but the effects of chemo can be culminative (sp), so if/when she really does need the help you’re being there will already be part of an established routine and not the “next, scary step.” Instead, it will be comforting.

So much good advice in this thread!

Most of all just be her friend, which you’re already proving to be. One who just happens to also help her in the bathroom if she does need to throw up. And then whips up a smoothie to take away the bad taste of the whole darn thing.

7

Each round of chemo may hit her harder than the last.

If you are truly INTIMATE friends, she might want someone that hangs around her house for 48 hours after chemo - you and a few friends could take shifts. She will mostly sleep, and won’t want you to bother her, but she might need a hand making it from the bed to the bathroom, finding the tv remote or someone to bring her light meals and liquids. Think of chemo as two days of the flu - maybe without the vomiting.

My sister wanted a ipod loaded with quiet music for chemo - then after chemo she wanted to sleep on day one, and then stupid movies or stupid books for day 2. Then she was fine.

A regular dinner is a good thing. When my brother in law went through it the guys went over for movie night once a week and just hung out.

Don’t worry about the hair - I haven’t known anyone yet who wants the itch of a wig - my sister and cousin did scarves and hats. Having a supportive “cut it off before it falls out” scarf and hat party where everyone brings a scarf or hat can be “fun.” Fun being in quotes because nothing about this is really fun.

8

Echoing what others said. My mother had simultaneous breast and uterine cancer and I lived with her while she went through chemo (and radiation).

Since you describe your friend as fiercely independent, I would say to expect resistance to your help, to not take it personally, and to continue to be a presence in her life so that when she does feel like she needs help, she won’t be afraid to go to you. Even if she rejects your offers of help at first, continue to offer them (non-pushily, of course) because she might change her mind. I really like the practical suggestions people have made here (especially to offer to deal with organization and chores).

Going from my mom’s experience, chemo might not give her any trouble until a few weeks into it. My mom was a full-time grad student when she was going through it, and she would be strong enough to go from the hospital directly to school on the day she had her infusion. The weakness would hit in the next couple of days following treatment, and it was weakness as in “I need to take a long nap now” as opposed to “I need someone to spoon-feed me when I eat or help me get dressed” (which is what I had expected).

Her chemo infusions could take a few hours (depending on how many drugs and what they give her – IIRC, my mom had 2 separate drugs for the breast cancer plus a round of antihistamines, so her infusions would take roughly 3 hours), so offer to stay with her (if you can) and if she rejects this at first, continue to offer (again, non-pushily) in case she changes her mind after a few weeks when the newness and fear have worn off and now she’s just bored.

My mom’s hospital provided counseling and also a ton of fun activities for chemo patients (yoga, art classes, music therapy, massage, gardening, etc.) – you can look into whether your friend’s hospital has similar programs and see if she would like to get involved. My mom’s friends would go with her to the yoga classes, and she really enjoyed that.

I would say, in general, be someone that levels with her and that she can level with. (I don’t know what kind of relationship you have; maybe you’re already this person :)). Just being someone that makes her feel that she can come to you for help without worrying about pride or shame (or owing you), she can tell you the truth about how she’s feeling (physically and emotionally), she can tell you sincerely when she doesn’t need your help with X but could really use help with Y – that sort of thing.

E: About making keys to her apartment – wouldn’t hurt to suggest it.

9

Missed the edit window:

Infusions consist of sitting in a chair while drugs are pumped into you. That’s it. :slight_smile: I found a picture I had taken (for some reason) of my mom while she was getting an infusion, so here it is so you know what to picture: picture. This was taken in 2006, so the technology might look a little different, but that machine on the right side is the infusion machine. The tube is going into a port-a-cath in her chest so that they wouldn’t have to keep sticking IVs in her arm. (A port-a-cath is a little plastic valve inserted under the skin and connecting to a blood vessel, so that the IV needle doesn’t have to break skin every time it’s inserted.) Your friend’s doctors will decide if a port-a-cath is recommended for your friend, and it’s a short outpatient procedure to install it.

You just sit there for hours while the meds are pumped into you. Bring a book or two, or another mind-occupying activity of your choosing. The machine regulates the flow of meds through the IV, and it will beep when the bag is done or needs to be changed. You might go through one or several bags, depending on what meds you’re getting, and then you go home, and that’s it! Repeat weekly, or whatever the schedule will be.

10

Thank you, these are really great posts and great information to have, stuff I wasn’t finding on chemo information sites. Exactly what I need, now for the rest of her diagnostics (still needs a bone scan and to biopsy a small lump they found in the other breast, doc thinks that one’s benign, but gotta make sure). So don’t know when the chemo will start, but pretty soon.

I don’t own a car, but have access to iGo. I won’t be able to afford trips every week, but can accompany her on CTA for sure, plus a vehicle here and there, if/when she’s sickest.

What has been said here is pretty reassuring. She’s like a sister to this only child, and I can do a lot of this for her if she needs it.

11

Just to be clear, the needle will still break skin every time, as the diaphragm part of the port-o-cath is just under the skin on the upper chest (it has to be surgically inserted). In my case, it was necessary because infusing the one drug into a vein would have given me chemical burns, so the catheter had to thread through the sub-clavicle vein to the heart to protect the vein and get the drug to the highest volume of blood possible to dilute it before it got pumped through the rest of my vascular system.

It’s also nice not to hunt for a vein every time, since repeated punctures can cause vein collapse.

Anyway, I also thought of this, which was a nice treat, even though I ended up too weak to fully take advantage of it: Thousand Waves Spa Stress Management Program for Women with Cancer. Basically, free massages.

Oh, also: if the bone scan is a bone marrow biopsy, if you can be there with her for that, please do. It HURTS like hell. Worst pain I have experienced in my life. I was very shaky afterwards and was very grateful not to have to get myself home alone.

12

My best friend is a breast cancer survivor. In addition to all the very wise advice above, I can tell you that it meant a lot to her when people listened to her about cancer. Not just “you’ll be fine, you will make it!,” but actual “I am scared and I don’t want to die!” talks. But there are also times that she won’t want to talk about it at all.

So, as her very close friend, I would recommend that you really listen to her, and try to gauge how you talk with her based on her current mood. If your friend is like mine, sometimes being able to laugh at cancer was something that helped a lot.

Think of her as a person who happens to have cancer, not as a cancer patient.

13

Oh, one more thought – it can be overwhelming to always be the one taking her to and from chemo, and doing all of the rest of the work. If you know some of her other friends and can sort of organize them so that everyone can pitch in a little and no one ends up trying to do it all, that would be helpful in preserving your own sanity as well as everyone else’s. My friends and family ended up taking “shifts” to take me to chemo, so I don’t think any single person had to do it more than twice. Taking care of yourself is the first step in taking care of her.

14

At some point she is going to lose her hair. At that point - because wigs need to be fitted - take her shopping for wigs, and be sure to try some outrageous ones.