"I Don't Know What to Say..."

I hear that a lot. Sometimes I just hear the strain and awkwardness as someone struggles to “say the right thing”. I've got some helpful hints.

What helps the most is when people treat me the same way they did before the elephant entered the room. He's the strong, silent type, but I swear to god he follows me everywhere.

First of all, you don't HAVE to say anything. Really. Experts say >80% of human communication is non-verbal, so what I read from your eyes, your facial expressions, your body language—that conveys far more to me than Hallmark precision sentiments. And let's face it. You and I both know that nothing you say is going to “make it better”. I promise you that a sincere smile with eye contact and/or a pat on the back is not only sufficient, but preferable to canned, pat phrases.

I am absolutely fine with someone simply saying that they're keeping us in their thoughts and prayers. In my world and belief system, it doesn't get any better than that.

Another thing I hear a lot: “Call if you need anything.” Okay. I don't know what that means. Here's the deal, and I mean no offense, but what I need you can't give me. I need my husband to be healed. Anything short of that I can pretty much handle on my own. And if you are close enough to me that I would be comfortable imposing upon you, I wouldn't have to tell you what I need. That fact has been proven to me time and again over the past many months. (More on this at a later date when I'm at liberty to discuss the Angels in my life.) I know that phrase “Call if you need anything” is well-meaning, but it ranks right up there with “have a nice day.” Your order or request for me to have a nice day is yet another burden that I'm not up to since odds are strong that I'm going to disappoint you.

It seems I'm not much help when it comes to What To Say. I sure can tell you what not to say, based on things that were said to me.

After a while, it becomes soul-sucking to field the repetitive question “How's Rich doing?” (Or worse “How's your hubby?” That one just annoys the living bah-geezus out of me.) It's not so much the question as the tone attached. Trust me, I can tell who is making a sincere inquiry and who is striving to be on the cutting edge of the gossip mill, or those who ask merely because they think propriety demands it. I respond accordingly. I respond respectfully to sincere inquiries. To the rest I smile sweetly and say “thanks for asking.”

Admittedly I'm not a good barometer for this. I'm a VERY private person, and yes, I get the insanity of blogging that you're a private person, but there's a huge difference between telling someone you cry and actually crying in front of them. And isn't there a big fluffy buffer of anonymity in this format? Not to mention the fact that near as I can tell there's a total of six people reading this blog. So I will proceed...

My first day back to work after the initial diagnosis, someone asked me “So are you going to turn your bedroom into a dying room?” If Steven Hawkings needs a first hand account of a black hole, he can call me. I think I mumbled something about not having thought of that and I would certainly look into it.

Just recently someone said to me....”We want to do something for you... take up a collection... So...what do you want? Cash, gift card?” SERIOUSLY?!?! Wow, who knew this experience included cash and prizes. I was devastated. I have been a member of this group for a fair amount of time. Long enough to be a party to other members' situations—deaths, surgeries, illnesses. We took up a collection, collaborated on ideas and presented a thoughtful surprise to our 'friend' without asking the recipient what they wanted. How does one respond to such an inquiry? I stated sweetly that I'm truly fine, appreciate the thought, but it's not necessary. “Okay.”

For the record, it's all I can do to remain civil when people refer to Rich in the past tense. I truly do not need anyone to tell me “what a wonderful man he WAS.” Thankfully, the bearers of those tidings were blissfully unaware of how close I came to jumping ugly all over them. Yes, I endured such comments more than once from more than one source.

I was fine the first 87 times I had to express assurances and gratitude when someone reminded me that I need to eat and rest. For the past thirteen months I've just wanted to growl, “Well thank you, Captain Obvious.” OR, “No, thanks, I'm on a hunger strike until the medical community resolves STUPID, and I find that sleep deprivation clears my head.” OR “If you want to report your sleep and diet habits to me, I'll be happy to respond in kind”.... OR....“Holy crap, Batman, if you hadn't just said that....” Are you kidding me?!?! Would it help you to know that I've gained thirty pounds since January? Twenty to thirty times up and down stairs daily is apparently not enough calorie burning exercise for a post-menopausal woman. More on this later...

There is a precise number of people who have the right and privilege to comment or inquire on how I feel, act, think, or express myself. Outside of that group, I do not need to hear how I should be feeling, what I should be thinking, or what I should be doing. On more than one occasion I have looked into the eyes of (or held the phone to my ear while) yet another expert on my life imparted their knowledge, and I fantasized about sweetly requesting them to shove 'Should' right up their ass.

On many of these occasions I have thankfully had a witness. It's always helpful to have validation of your tea with the Mad Hatter lest you begin to doubt your own sanity.

These are among my most fortifying moments. The well meaning offender wanders away, feeling all warm and fuzzy for their valuable input and my blessed witness turns to me, mouth gaping and finally manages.... “oh. my. God. How do you manage not to.....”

“Points.” I reply. “I need the points.” I am pleased and relieved to state that short of pleasantly hinting at bodily harm to a couple of doctors, I have not lost my temper, been rude, curt, or in any way less than grateful and at times obsequious with all of my encounters. I am so sweet it's no wonder Rich is now on insulin. My motivation is complex. Mostly I need the Points. Call it Zen, call it Kharma, grab any label you like. I believe in Balance. I'm seeking Points to weight my side of the scale.

In keeping with Balance, I can't afford to waste energy on anger, angst or assholes. I need to kiss as many medical asses as necessary to insure the care of and concern for my Mate. I need to keep myself insulated from any and all who do not believe in our path. I need to protect us both from any and all negative energy—including my own. And I do know that people mean well. They just don't understand and that's not their fault. From day One Rich has told me there is a reason we have been put on this path. I try to live up to that with Faith and Grace, but the bottom line is... I think I need the Points.