I'm sure this is a universal experience, but people's reactions to hearing of my illness have been highly varied, some predictable, and some surprising (though not always in a good way).
I'm an atheist, but a number of people I know to be religious are praying for me: in the conventional Christian way; by being "held in the light" - a very nice concept - by a Quaker; and by being sent remote reiki by a New Age lady. I don't mind that; while I don't share their beliefs, it's completely well-intentioned, and I take it in the spirit intended. Less welcome, though I suppose well-meant, was an anecdotal recommendation for the (completely scientifically discredited) Essiac Tea. Even less welcome was an ear-bend on how cancer is easily curable, that the cure can be found on YouTube - I wish! - and that I'm just being suckered by the Big Pharma conspiracy.
And then there's a relative of Irene, who turned out to be a broken reed. "Anything I can do to help", when it came to it, rapidly morphed into a compendium of insultingly lame "I'm washing my hair" excuses why he couldn't do a simple favour for her, with no satisfactory explanation. Unfortunately I've majorly fallen out with him over that, as it brought into sharp focus my long-running irritation at his habit of shying away from emotional situations, and of logicking away any responsibility for the effect his self-centred and precious stance has on others. No doubt the stress of the current situation made my fuse shorter than usual, too. Irene isn't too bothered; she doesn't feel as strongly as I do about it, probably because it's all very familiar. It appears to be a trait in one branch of her family to have a monstrous lack of empathy and altruism, and worse, to readily find intellectual reasons why others are unreasonable in their reactions to this. She hasn't inherited that trait; I wouldn't be married to her after 20+ years if she had.
But there are far more positives than negatives. As I said, my Dad and his family have been brilliant, despite a lot of other ongoing family drama. So have my regular friends from the business, pub, and music circuit (several, completely unknown to me, have themselves had encounters with serious cancer). One long-standing friend, who I've been on slightly frosty terms with after we argued a couple of years ago about management of a club we co-founded, repaired all the bridges by inviting me out for a coffee, and we had the longest chat we've had for ages. There's been the occasional weird offer too. One guy cheerfully told me (you'll have to imagine the Scouse accent), "Any time you want any weed, man, just ask!" It's not an offer I mean to take up, but you can't doubt the goodwill! A number of online contacts have also been unexpectedly supportive; I find I have secret fans who've been reading my science articles for years, and some are shining and encouraging examples of carrying on despite harrowing circumstances.
I know it's trite to say this, but cancer diagnosis has proved a time to cut to the chase with friends and family: to grasp the ones who are positive to have in your life, even if you've had past differences or the relationship isn't deeply meaningful; and to ditch the ones who are toxic and negative, however close they've seemed to be.
- James
