the will to live--or not

 

Two friends of mine have cancer. The prognosis for both of them is grim because their tumors are so difficult to treat.

One is a woman who has been in treatment for six or seven years now, proceeding from one experimental protocol to another in a futile effort to halt the spread of her tumor. After every course of chemotherapy, she suffers severe side effects, often requiring hospitalization to manage pain and dehydration. Most of us would have given up by now, but her will to live is fierce. Unyielding. Defiant. It is fueled by two things: love for her family, and hope (aka faith). Well, maybe three things. There's always heartache. The pain a mother suffers when her children's hearts break for her. Knowing she won't be there for them when they long for her comfort, strength, support, and wisdom. For her love. She will do anything to beat this disease.

"Love is the ultimate expression 

of the will to live."

~Tom Wolfe~

My other friend was healthy until, all of a sudden, he wasn't. The risk factors for his cancer included smoking and drinking, but he had never smoked, and he didn't drink...so, go figure. Of course he would have preferred life to continue as it always had. Not like this. His will to go on was dampened not only by the side effects of treatment, but by his inability to care for his family. The fact that he needed help for the first time ever. That he felt like a useless burden. It caused him to lose hope. He wanted to die.

"Hope is the last thing

ever lost."

~Italian Proverb~

It is hard to know how to support a person who clings desperately to hope when, in truth, there really is none...just as it is hard to encourage the patient who has already given up. Platitudes and cliches offer no real wisdom or comfort. No one wants to hear, "God never gives us more than we can handle," or "God must have something better in store for you," when all they can see is suffering and death.

What has been shown to be helpful, though, is the simple act of storytelling. Sharing favorite memories. Reminiscing about the times you enjoyed together. Exploring what kept you connected in good times, and what sustains your friendship now. It has the power to generate laughter, as well as to release tears. If not to heal, at least to sustain.

Storytelling helps because it celebrates your presence. Your attention. Your engagement. You have not abandoned your friend, or if you're a healthcare provider, your patient, at the most difficult point in his life.

Even your quiet presence can be comforting. It suggests embracing with ease what might otherwise feel like an awkward silence. Processing grief with equanimity. Reflecting upon what (you hope) comes next. All the thoughts that may never find their way into words.

"Dancing, singing, storytelling,

and silence

are the four healing salves."

~Gabrielle Roth~

The person who has a strong will to live will take comfort, find encouragement, and embrace hope because of your words. In your peaceful presence. The one who has given up may be inspired to hang on a little longer. I like to remind my friend that they may discover the cure for his cancer tomorrow.

"We are all just walking 

each other home."

~Ram Dass~

jan