Friendships During Adversity

I was diagnosed with leukemia in late July 2015. A few close friends had to be told the old fashioned way, by telephone, immediately. I needed their immediate help in dealing with household issues and gathering of supplies for my hospital stay.

I hadn’t been feeling well for a month, and just days before I had gone to see my dentist in hopes she could fix my bleeding gums (because it wasn’t at all weird my gums were bleeding profusely. I had stopped smoking after all. Google searches provided proof this was absolutely normal). She urged me to get my blood counts done, no later than two weeks.

It was an odd request but an urgent one. I remember lying in bed that night feeling like absolute hell thinking no one on earth really gave a damn about me and wondered when or if I would ever feel better.

Worsening conditions, concerned work colleagues and my dentist’s odd request finally compelled me to visit an urgent care doctor in Park Slope, Brooklyn. After a five-minute exam, he told me I had to go to the ER right away. I probably needed a transfusion. I balked. I was freelancing, hoping to get hired and had procrastinated about getting health insurance. I couldn’t afford a trip to the ER. He insisted. I relented and several hours later was wheeled up to the ICU for the night and about to receive another transfusion. I had already been told by a new doctor that I would be stuck in the hospital a month because I had immature blood cells and not enough of them to keep me from collapsing. I argued that I needed to go home. I lost the argument, thankfully.

The first friend I called responded to my plea to feed my cats and look after them until I could get home. She responded that she would take care of it and not to worry. I texted another (whom I knew was watching a play with his family at that very moment) asking if he would be my official emergency contact. When he got out of the theatre, he also responded immediately. He brought me supplies the next day (my glasses, clothing, my laptop). I called my sister, a nurse, and told her the dire predictions. My aunt was consulted on family history to verify that no leukemia had sprung up before (nope, we’re a breast cancer family).

The rest of my network was slowly notified through texting and social media. I quickly started a blog so I didn’t have to tell the same story and give the same updates 50 times. Some of my friends who hadn’t noticed my Facebook posts were sent messages with an apology, “Sorry you have to find out this way, but here is something you need to read,” with a link to my blog. It was a busy time. Bone marrow biopsies were being performed to determine my exact disease, chemo regimens were beginning, and my life was thrown into controlled chaos. Chaotic for me to be controlled by others. Hospital life is enjoyed by no one.

The initial outpouring of support was overwhelming. Friends set up Go Fund Me pages, and my people forked over their hard earned cash so I would not become homeless during the battle. I received a lot of calls, texts, emails and messages of concern and “You got this! You fight this!” Things you do when you find out your friend is sick. I was so thankful. I was more concerned about being destitute than sick, oddly enough, and everyone’s emotional and financial support was extraordinary.

Then time passes and fatigue sets in with some, and you hear from them less and less. Others can’t handle the uncertainty and hide. Then there is always one estranged batshit crazy friend who takes the opportunity to blame you for ignoring you after your mother died because YOU never called HER to cry on her shoulder. Her therapist is seriously ripping her off. It’s kind of sad, but I had my own worries, and honestly, who needs that when you have chemo to contend with?

It’s been fascinating to see who falls into the various compartments I’ve identified among the friends. Some that I thought would be stalwart supporters throughout the process I’ve yet to even lay eyes on since my diagnosis. Conversely, my emergency contact and his husband went well beyond their mandate and took me into their home to care for me after I was discharged for two months since I needed that level of babysitting after my transplant.

Another, who has always been more of an acquaintance than a friend, moved into my apartment for three months and looked after my cats without hesitation. That was hugely helpful and amazing and above and beyond what I had initially asked of him.

But now I have a clean bill of health. I posted about it yesterday and got an overwhelming response (a bazillion likes and comments) and today I will thank everyone and tell them I ready for face to face contact. The next phase of the experiment will determine who is REALLY compelled to see me. I live alone, and after leaving my caregivers three weeks ago, I’m feeling a little isolated. And it’s winter. Who are my real friends? Will they schlep out to Brooklyn to visit me? Time will tell. And is this the measure of who my real friends are, or is that a very narrow view (it is, but it’s an emotional view not a logical one, and it’s how I operate).

Yes, it’s been an interesting journey. Watching patterns emerge, expectations satisfied or blown to smithereens. Cancer does a number on people, for good or ill. The next phase will be most intriguing. And the fascinating and frustrating tapestry that we call friendship informs it all.