Helpful Things to do for People With Cancer

Helpful Things to do for People With Cancer

29 August 2011 at 10:05

Here is a list of helpful things to do to help someone with cancer.

Daily Household Chores

§  Help with housecleaning

§  Change the sheets

§  Take care of laundry (wash, fold, and put away)

§  Empty and take out trash in time for weekly garbage collection

§  Shop for groceries

§  Stock cabinets, refrigerator, and freezer with prepared foods that require little preparation

§  Buy juices, fruits, and fresh vegetables

§  Take care of pets (walk dog, clean litter box, clean aquariums and cages, buy pet food, take animals to vet appointments)

§  Take care of houseplants

§  Gather mail

§  Drop off/pick up dry cleaning

§  Check in periodically to see if any essentials are needed, such as milk, eggs, bread, feminine care products, tissues, toilet paper, deodorant, soap, shampoo, and toothpaste

Household Care and Maintenance

§  Plant flowers

§  Mow lawn/rake leaves/weed yard

§  Shovel snow

§  Offer to take care of any automobile maintenance (inspection, oil change, gas, car wash)

§  Take care of any minor household repairs or maintenance you are capable of performing (replacing batteries in smoke/carbon monoxide detectors, light bulbs, filters in heating/air conditioning system) or offer to be there when work people arrive

Holiday, Occasion, and Seasonal Help

§  Help get, put up, and take down holiday decorations

§  Be aware of holidays or occasions (birthdays, weddings, anniversaries) that mean something to the person and offer your services (pick up a gift, cook something for party, buy and mail cards)

§  Help them shop online for gifts

Thoughtful gestures are always a pleasant and uplifting surprise, and there are several things you can offer to do for your loved one to bring them some comfort and even enjoyment:

§  Take them to beauty salon or barbershop

§  Treat them to lunch or a movie

§  Read to them or bring over a DVD

§  Take them out for a drive, to the park, or a short walk

§  Cook a favorite food or bake a treat

§  Give note cards so that the person can write to friends

§  Collect email addresses for them

§  Send inspirational cards on a regular basis

§  Assemble a photo album or scrap book

§  Make a CD or save music to a thumb drive

§  Leave voicemails or emails (it often helps to mention that you don’t expect aresponse but wanted to let them know you were thinking of them, that way they don’t feel pressured to respond if they are not up to it)

§  Keep a picture or video chronicle of them through their treatment (if they are agreeable) 

People who have cancer often need someone to drive them to doctor and therapy appointments, and many appreciate having someone stay with them and keep them company during treatments. Other ways you can provide support to your loved one during treatment include: 

§  Refill and pick up medications

§  Offer to provide transportation to appointments, errands, and events

§  Follow-up with them after their appointments with a call, and wish them good luck before they go

§  Offer to do research for them on their cancer, treatment, health- and nutrition-related issues (dietary supplements, best foods, lifestyle modifications), and cancer care team, or to help with insurance issues that may arise

Cancer treatment can often be expensive, leaving patients with the challenge of having little financial resources to take care of some of their other responsibilities. There are several things you can offer to do to help relieve some financial stress:

§  Pay some bills

§  Buy stamps

§  Research and contact a financial planner

§  Research ways to help the patient pay for treatment

§  Organize a fund raiser

If you do not live close enough or you have other obligations that prevent you from being able to offer your services, you can still provide support through phone calls, cards, and gifts. Some nice gift ideas for friends or loved ones with cancer include:

§  Flowers

§  Gift baskets

§  MP3 player

§  Money/gift cards

§  Books, magazines, puzzle books

§  A warm throw, slippers, cozy socks

§  iTunes or eBooks credits

§  Perfume, lotions, makeup

§  Pajamas

§  Gift certificate for massage, if appropriate (some people who have cancer are unable to get a massage because of the location of the cancer or site of surgery, or as a result of symptoms or side effects they may be experiencing)

However, knowing one is not alone during a difficult time is often the best gift of all. 

About me...

I am Michelle, 52 year-old single mom to three adult children and three adult dogs.

I have a MBA from the University of North Alabama and BS from Birmingham Southern College. I am currently "retired" due to being diagnosed with Stage 4 Metastatic Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma 

I love anything outdoors, especially kayaking. 

I love to travel and have been to London, Paris, NYC, Mexico, Guatemala and many other places. 

I love to read and read about 1 book a week.

I love sports, especially football and softball and am a huge fan of the Crimson Tide and the Pittsburgh Steelers.

I love all music but praise & worship, country and classic rock are my favorites.

I also enjoy many crafts--crocheting, sewing, painting, etc. 

But most of all I love to write and have been neglecting it in recent years. No more. Stay tuned!

Remembering Maw Maw

There are not very many treasured childhood memories that do not include my Maw Maw, Dorothy Moore. Maw maw was my mom's mom and from the time I was very young until she passed away when I was 27, her fingerprints have been eternall etched into my very soul. Being her first grandchild came with many priveleges not the least of which included having her undivided attention for four years!

I can remember being very young--probably no more than 2 and spending the night with her quite often. My mom married my dad wwhen she was 15, gave birth to me at 19 and by 21 wa ready to regain some of her own lost childhood and who could blame her? She left my dad but as a high school dropout with no skills, there were little opportunities for employment that would pay the bills and feed a small child other than waiting tables or tending bar so that is what she did. This meant working a lot of nights so I usually stayed with my grandparents. They lived in a small wood-frame house in Robinwood. They didn't have a lot of money but they did have Booberry cereal--which I happily ate right out of the box--and a TV. And every Saturday night was Hee Haw! To me, that was heaven.

Shortly after my mom married my step-dad and settled down again, my grandfather was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and given only six week to live. Maw Maw moved in with us after he passed in November of 1973. She continued to work full time as a dietary aid for St. Vincent's Hospital and help my mom with me and later on my sisters, Melanie & Mia. She had two small back bedrooms that we referred to as "Maw Maw's side" and it was like a little apartment.

One of the rooms, which at one time had been a small kitchen (our house was a converted duplex) was made into her sewing room. She had boxes and boxes of material and fabric scraps that she used to make or paatch a lot of our clothes, blankets and other items. she taught me to do a few things but really didn't have the patience to show me much. she would rather do it for me if I was trying to do something specific. But she didn't mind me playing. Id' sit on her bed for hours fashioning rag dolls, doll clothes and other things while she sat in her recliner cross-stitching, hand sewing, crocheting or reading. I think watching her actually enjoy reading contributed to my love of books as well.

One thing I did not inherit from her (but I developed the ability for it in later years) was gardening. She loved plants and growing things. She had a small garden in our backyard where she grew tomatoes, squash and a few other things. I loved playing in it but was often run out of it for fear I would dig up an actual plant instead of a week or accidentally step on something. She must have sensed my lack of a green thumb!

She also had a flower garden outside her window that she fenced in with that cheap, white wire garden border and decorated elaborately with birdbaths and plastic ducks that I considered my "pets" and actually named! (told you I attached human feelings to inanimate objects!)

Her room was the first in the house to have an air conditioner also so that made hanging out with her all the more appealing! I could lie on her bed for hours in front of that sweet invention and watch TV. We watched Alice, The Jeffersons and just about anything else that came on 42. For some reason, that seemed to be her favorite channel.

When I was a teenager, my room was the one right next to hers and oh how I hated that! She could hear and know everything I did or said and that's when our relationship got tricky. I always loved her, no question about that. But her living with us in a lot of ways robbed me of having a "grandmother" that I could go and visit and let enjoy the good side of me like most grandparents get to do with their grandchildren. Instead, I had a third parent in the house with me, always up in my business, always telling me what to do and I resented it.

Yet, if not for her, I wouldn't have got to do a lot of the things I did or have a lot of the things that I had. She enjoyed having financial freedom for the first time in her life and instead of spending money on herself, she lavished it on her children and grandchildren. I had designer clothes, she paid for most of my band/majorette uniforms (or she made them) and I know she helped my parents out a lot when they were having a tough time. I tried to appreciate it all then...I really did. But I was a selfish teenager, what can I say? I do, however, VERY MUCH appreciate it now.

She loved to go places with us, too and felt left out when we didnt' take her along, even when it was some place she didn't particularly care for. But as the years went on, the relationship between her and my dad became strained for many reasons and I know he didn't mean to but his resentment poured out of him. My dad is a good man but because of things that happened to him in his childhood and the way he was raised, he isn't good at showing love most of the time. He will kiss, hug and love on anyone--and he never meets a stranger. But even though he's very strong in affection, communication he is very lacking.

After I married and moved out, a few years later, subsidized housing called and informed her that her name had finally come to the top of the list for an apartment just down the street. I can still remember her face--she was VERY excited especially when she found out how low the rent was going to be. She was excited to get her own place, finally--at the age of 62! Plans were immediately made to help her get setup and the day she moved out was a hustle and bustle of activity. She seemed so happy yet it didn't take long for her to start feeling lonely in her new place. I know that feeling well--I remember feeling that way when I spent my first night alone in our new apartment. It signifies that a new chapter in your life is beginning and that others are coming to a close and even though it's exciting, it's sad at the same time. That very night it hit her, too and she called my mom, crying and wanting to come back. It wasn't pretty. We all later decided that all the unmarried granddaughters (all but me!) would take turns spending the night with her until she got used to the place and it didn't take her long. She came to enjoy her privacy and being able to retreat to it whenever she wanted to.

When Dylan and Kayti were born she was the proudest great-grandma I have ever seen (she passed away before Brooke was born). She had always been partial to girls but I have never seen a little boy be so loved as the way Dylan was when he was with her. At times I thought I caught glimpses of myself in him when he smiled at her when they would do the things she and I used to do. I know she was thrilled when Kayti came along and she had another little girl to make dresses and hairbows for (even though she never got to see Kayti get any hair to put the bows in!) She could get Kayti to sleep so easily just by holding her in a forward facing position and rocking. Kayti never knew she was being tricked into going to sleep. One of the most precious pictures I have is of the two of them sleeping on the couch together.

By this time, her illness and a hard-lived life was taking its toll on her. My God, I wish we had known then how precious little time we had left. I'm not going into the details of her death because so much of it is still so painful and makes me angry at how the doctors and healthcare people handled things. I will just say it happened so much faster than we expected it to or that it should have and for a long time (and maybe still) my mom blames God. I don't understand it either but I have to believe that He saved her from a lot of suffering because I heard her say more than a few times how she did not want to be in any pain or be a burden to any of us. How that precious woman could have thought she could be a burden to anyone is beyond me...but she has to be happy knowing that she wasn't a burden at all in the way she thought she might be and she wasn't in much pain. She was surrounded by family and went just the way she wanted to go.

That is the worst pain I have ever known or ever hope to know and there isn't a day that goes by that something doesn't remind me of her. I am so grateful to her for so many things. I still miss her terribly. I used to be upset that she didnt' get to see Brooke (or Ryan, Drew, & Mason) but I do believe that she gave us Brooke.

After I announced that I was having "another" baby (right on the heels of Kayti, age 13 months, just a few months after Maw Maw died and it was NOT planned. In fact, I wasn't supposed to be able to have anymore kids but that's another story!) my mom asked me if I knew when I got pregnant. I told her that I felt sure it was one particular night while we were at the beach so we looked at the calendar and found the exact date. She then told me that the night before she'd had a dream about Maw Maw and in the dream my mom was crying and wanting to go be with Maw Maw but Maw Maw told her that she couldn't--she had something else that she needed to do!

I believe Maw Maw knew I was going to have Brooke and that it was her way of letting us all know that she was okay and happy and that we needed to keep on living because that's what SHE wanted to do and would have done if only she could have. And Brooke is SO MUCH like her! She even looks like Maw Maw did at her age and when she was very little, she was always happy and content, no matter what her situation was--just like Maw Maw.

I'd give anything to have just one day back with her. But I know I'll see her again.

Earliest Childhood Memory

My earliest childhood memory is from when I was about 2 or 3 years old. My mom and her boyfriend (who later became my step-dad) took me to spend the day at a popular swimming hole, Turkey Creek.

Back then, during the early 70's and especially in the South, there weren't many local pools to frequent. Many closed intentionally and voluntarily when the Supreme Court ruled they could not exclude people of a different race--specifically African Americans--and even the most open-minded of rednecks thought swimming with blacks was somehow wrong. And even if you found a pool where there were only whites they were likely to have a host of other rules you probably wouldn't care for: 1) no swimming in cutoff shorts--the popular swimming attire for young men in their teens and early 20s from the blue collar, redneck neighborhoods of Robinwood/Tarrant 2) no food from outside--as if the previously mentioned class of people could afford the pool snack bar and perhaps most importantly--3) no alcoholic beverages--as if anyone wanted to spend a day in 100 degree Alabama humidity without beer.

So most people from our neck of the woods took to the lakes, rivers and streams that surrounded the working class neighborhoods of suburban Birmingham. Turkey Creek, located a few miles north of Birmingham in the tiny town of Pinson is a tributary to both the Locust Fork and Black Warrior Rivers. It has a rich history of importance not only to native Americans but was also the site of the Grist Mill and Iron forge owned and operated by David Hanby who used the forge to make horseshoes for the Confederacy until he was killed by Union soldiers in 1865.* since 1870, Turkey Creek has been a popular spot for locals to swim, fish and picnic and nothing much had changed 100 years later. The water was cool and the current was swift. The lush green surroundings provided relief from the summer heat. Part of the creek was shallow enough to drive a car through and many young men sporting hot rods in the early 70's would use that part of the creek as a free car wash.

I remember this one trip in particular because I'd brought along my pots, pans and other dishes to play in the sand along the shores. Little did my three year-old mind understand but a swiftly moving creed is not the best place to pretend to cook! I very diligently set about arranging all my utensils in an orderly fashion to make my sand and mud-rich culinary masterpiece of the afternoon which I just knew my mom would adore and her new friend would be ever so impressed at my skills! I'd only turned my head for a minute when the current picked up one of my dishes and began carrying it downstream.

I panicked and screamed, "The running water got my dish!" and by the time the words were out of my mouth, my beloved dish had been carried another sixty feet but it was still in sight. I took off running down the shallow sides of the creek after it which quickly caught the attention of my mother whereas my screams a few seconds earlier had not. I was immediately caught and prevented from going any further to collect my belongs. When I protested and explained tearfully, "The running water got my dish!", my mother attempted to go after them. By this time, the dishes were no longer in sight. My future step-father, familiar with the primitive surroundings of the part of the creek that was seldom frequented by others then prevented my mother from proceeding any further. He warned her that there was "no telling what's down that part of the creek--snakes or worse! They're gone. Forget it. She can get some more."

That would have been fine except in my three year-old min, things were like people and couldn't just be replaced. I don't know why I felt this way but I remember thinking these toys had feelings and they would be hurt that I couldn't save them from "the running water". When I was a kid I was notorious for attaching human feelings and emotions to inanimate objects. My youngest child has inherited that trait.

I can't be sure, but I think this is where I learned empathy. though my compassion was for poor, unfortunately objects and not animals or people, I was eventually able to transpose those feelings onto more deserving things and I learned that things CAN (usually) be replaced. There were not too many times after that that I let myself get attached to "things". Only those that had sentimental significance were reserved for that and as such I broke the family cycle of becoming a pack rat--saving anything and everything.

I learned that things, no matter how precious and meaningful and even pets and people can't always last forever. We have very little control sometimes over what we're allowed to hold onto and what we must let go of--except for the memories. If you truly treasure something (or someone), keep it in your memories as best you can. That way "running water" can never claim them.

My angel babies

Yes, it is true. There are two angel babies waiting in heaven for me. It's not something I speak of often, for various reasons that may or may not become obvious in this writing.

The first went to heaven at approximately 12 weeks gestation in March of 1991. I could not have been more thrilled to find out I was having my first child, due October 18, 1991. It would be the first grandchild for my parents and the first baby on both sides of the family in a long time. We were young and living in an apartment with not much money. But I'd been dreaming of the day I would have my own baby since I was a little girl. And I think all my family and friends knew that and therefore they were elated as well.

I immediately started planning (who me?) for my baby's arrival. My sister-in-law gave me her crib, my mom began buying little things and I started picking out names. Among some of our favorites at the time were Dakota, Raven and Stormie.

A few weeks before I was to have my first ultrasound, I started spotting. The doctor told me it was nothing to worry about but that I should stay off my feet as much as possible. I did but it only got worse. Finally, I went in to see him and an ultrasound--the one that was supposed to tell me if we were having a boy or a girl, confirmed a suspected nightmare: my baby had died--several weeks ago but my body was slow in letting go. Surgery was immediately scheduled for the next morning to take care of what nature couldn't.

Of course we were devastated and we had all the usual insensitive and cruel questions and comments to deal with--What did we do to cause it? Did I have to have an abortion? Well, it just wasn't meant to be.

Yeah, I guess so. God's plan is perfect but sometimes I do wish He'd clue us all in on it because just knowing it was "God's will" doesn't take away the pain. Neither does knowing, "you'll have more one day".

Sure, I did get blessed with Dylan 18 months later. And truth be told, had my first baby lived, I probably wouldn't have had him and I cannot for one minute imagine my life without him. But I do sometimes imagine what my life would be like if I had TWO teens now instead of just one! I wonder if it was a boy or a girl, who it would have looked like, what kind of personality did it have, etc.

My second angel baby went to heaven in June, 1995. After several months of infertility treatments and finding out about my hypothyroidism, we were thrilled to learn that we would soon be having a little brother or sister for 2 1/2 year-old Dylan. Due in January and feeling better than ever, we went to the beach. It was there that I would discover this baby wasn't "meant to be" either.

It's a mathmatical certainty that had that baby lived, I wouldn't have had Kayti. She was conceived that October and born the following June. So again, it's not something I dwell on. Just something I wonder about sometimes. I usually think of myself as the mom of three. But if indeed life begins at conception, then I am a mom of five.

Brooke's birth story

My pregnancy with Brooke, though it was physically an easy one, was not marked by the "glowing" memories that the other two were. We'd just lost my grandmother the year before, Jeff still wasn't recovered fully from his surgery and still suffering from Crohn's, we were experiencing so much financial difficulty, I absolutely HATED my job and I was depressed A LOT. So much so, that my doctor put me back on my prozac at 5 months. She was not a planned pregnancy but I guess God knew better and in a lot of ways, I was thrilled to know I was going to have another little girl. How great it would be to have sisters so close in age (even though age doesn't matter much. My sisters and I are far apart in age but pretty close still)

Brooke's birth experience was very similar to Kayti's. She was VERY easy. The day before I had a doctor's appointment and he said I was 2 cms. He told me the exact same thing that he'd told me with Kayti--if I hadn't gone by morning, they were going to induce. But you know my kids--they don't let anyone tell them what to do or when so she decided she'd go ahead and get started on being born herself! My contractions started that night. I stayed home though since they had already scheduled an induction for the next morning and just waited to go in until then. I wanted to do most of my labor at home not strapped to all that mess! (this is what makes me think I could pretty much do a home birth!)

When we got to the hospital the next morning, I was dialated 3 cms. A few hours later they came in and did the epi and maybe an hour or so after that, she was on her way out! I remember feeling like she was coming and the doctor taking his sweet time just standing there fussing that his stuff wasn't set up right! I remember fussing at him telling him he better not let my baby fall onto the floor!

He told me to "calm down" in typical man-fashion so I reached down there and pretty much got her myself. I remember holding her and seeing her big blue eyes and thinking she looks just like Jeff (and she still does!) and that she was so tiny (so much for babies getting bigger the more you have, mine got smaller!) I nursed her in the delivery room and then we went up to the post-partum room.

Dylan and Kayti came up to the room a few hours later to see their new baby sister. I think they were more excited about the presents the new baby "brought" them though! But Kayti was so cute asking about "Book-a-win" and then when she saw her she just said, "Baby, oh!" (of course, the day we came home from the hospital though, she slapped her! *sigh* she had a horrible case of terrible twos!) Dylan was an old pro at 5 years of age by then. He knew exactly how to hold her and everything. Yep, Brooke is a living testimony of how God laughs when you tell him about your plans! I cannot imagine one day without her making me laugh when nothing else can.

Kayti's birth story

Kayti was MUCH easier than Dylan! lol Although she was SIX days overdue, I went into labor with her shortly after my exam that day. He'd told me I was 2 cm's and if I hadn't gone by the morning to come back in and he would induce. Well, the contractions started around lunchtime and all I could think was "my house is a mess and my nails are not done!" I wanted everything to be absolutely PERFECT! lol

So I ran around cleaning and went to get my nails done. I took my little sister with me and sat there and got my nails done while my contractions where about 8 minutes apart. Got home and around 4 or so, they became about 6 minutes apart and Jeff was telling me I oughta go ahead and call since I was already dilated this time and all so I did and the doc told me to come on in. I called my best friend to tell her they were 6 min apart and we were going to the hospital and while I was talking to her she said, "Honey, I think they are closer than 6 min" and she was right. They had become like 3 minutes! 

So we got to the hospital and I was already 5 cms! They asked me if I wanted the epi. Now after my horrid epi experience with Dylan I had decided I was going to wait as long as possible and try not to have one at all because with him, by the time I got it and it took and all, the worst part was over with anyway and then I couldn't walk for 2 days! But....I caved to pain and got it. This time though, everything worked like it was supposed to and I just relaxed and watched the Braves' game and went it was over, I was at 10! I pushed for about 15 minutes and at 10:08 p.m., she was here--all 6 lbs 14 oz. of her! She was so beautiful! And such a good baby--she hardly even cried, only when my MIL was holding her! LOL

I got to nurse right away and Dylan came into the delivery room and he was so sweet! We had let him pick out one of her names and he had decided on "Sara" after "Cera"--the little dinosaur on The Land Before Time! He walked in and I asked him what her name was and he said, "Hey, Sara Kaytlan!" Then he wanted to see the "special place" where the doctor took the baby out of mommy! LOL