I had coffee with bink this Sunday morning on my house-sitting porch. We talked about what is helpful when a person is sick or otherwise weighed down.
(bink's partner has been sick since March––the diagnosis is elusive--a battery of tests is ongoing––so she's talking from current experience.)
Here's a list we came up with of How to Offer Help and Support.
This may seem obvious, but in our experience, it's not always (or not always forthcoming, or easy to do, anyway).
It could also apply to people in a state of emotional need, like grief, as well as people who are sick, or caring for someone who is sick, or otherwise burdened.
bink says, "When a friend who was like my brother died, I remember standing in the frozen food aisle staring at the Stouffer's frozen dinners. I was so indecisive, I could not choose one. I stood there for a long time, like 45 minutes, in a daze before I just took one."
Probably some tips apply to most of us, physically distanced because of the Covid-19 pandemic.
What do you think?
If you have tips to add, please leave them in the comments. Thanks!
1. Support 1.01: Make some effort to be in contact, however small.
Even if you are not usually in contact with the person, this is a time when a little means a lot.
You don't have to offer to help, or even talk about whatever's up.
Send a card. Text or email. Say,
[When my mother killed herself, I really, really didn't want the disquisitions on the morality of suicide that two separate people wrote me. Most comforting were things such as a card with a weeping willow that said,
"I am so sorry. Love, Your Old Friend".]
More intimate: Call, Zoom, FaceTime, or visit in person (through the window, maybe).
If you pray or light candles or do any suchlike spiritual practice, let the person know, if you think it is welcome.
But be sensitive--this could be triggering for some! (For instance, a friend who grew up in a cult cannot tolerate even the kindest offers of prayer.)
Help is about offering help that is helpful to the other person, not about displaying our faith, right? no matter how loving and well-intentioned.
KEY ⇒ Don't be hurt if someone doesn't want your help or doesn't reciprocate.
It's not personal! (Or . . .maybe it is, but now is not the time to get into it.)
Quite likely they are overwhelmed and exhausted.
This is a time to give with no expectations of return.
2-a. * * * The BIGGEST, most excellent practical help: Bring or send pre-made meals--in a way that doesn't make ANY work for the recipient. "It's like a miracle," bink says.
Gold Star Option: buy or prepare an entire meal––entrée and sides, dessert, and a bottle of something.
Freeze and deliver a "hot dish", as we say in Minnesota, or––best of all––deliver a hot meal.
Or have one delivered. If you're out of town, you can order online--most places deliver now.
BE AWARE OF DIETARY RESTRICTIONS. Best to ask.
(bink is allergic to dairy, her partner is allergic to gluten--a pizza would be wasted on them.)
You could call and say,
2-b. RELATED: Groceries.
Ask what groceries they want delivered, and leave them on the doorstep. (If you don't have the money, they can pay for their groceries: your time and effort is the huge gift.)
Food surprises aren't always good, unless you know people's food restrictions. But something like a fruit basket is probably pretty safe---and surprisingly nice.
Or... things that people always need, like toilet paper!
I love grocery-store rotisserie roast chickens, but someone brought me a jar of peanut butter and some cans of soup once, and that remains high on my lifetime list of kindnesses.
3. Invite conversation, ask for news, if you are willing and wanting to be more involved.
It doesn't hurt to state the obvious.
Ongoing pain, worry, sleeplessness--these all fog the brain.
"I care."
"How are you doing with this situation?"
"Did you get the test results?"
"How is this for you?"
Michael suggests the question, "Are you okay?" Or plain old chit-chat--more on that here:
the "Small Talk Saves Lives" campaign from the British group the Samaritans (re: suicide prevention, but it applies widely).
Be aware the person may not want to talk. That's okay too.
4. Offer help: "I want to help. What can I do for you?"
You can be specific in your offer. (When a person is fatigued, answering "What can I do for you?" can be tiring.)
Make suggestions:
Do you need something picked up? A ride to the doctor?
Tech support?
("May I help you with the new Blogger?")
It's harder in the time of Covid, when you can't offer to scrub someone's bathtub, but there are errands you can do from a distance:
mow a yard, walk a dog, go to the post office.
If people don't want help, they can say so.
Offer more than once, though. People are sometimes shy to take you up on your offer, or may be overwhelmed and can't think of anything on the spot.
5. Send or drop off or order something to occupy time or be a physical reminder that you care.
Being sick or stressed can be oddly BORING... Distraction offers great relief.
I'm a big believer in the power of The Small Gift.
A puzzle, book, magazine subscription, DVD...
Anything handmade! (Almost.)
My father kept a painting of some onions I'd water-colored by his bedside in his final weeks.
Or pay for a service---like a subscription to stream Criterion movies or PBS shows, music from iTunes, etc.
An attractive face mask?
A fancy toothbrush in a designer color?
Toys????
Flowers can be nice. (If they have pets––especially cats, which climb up where bouquets are––watch out for plants that are poison to animals, like lilies.)
Also, watch out for strong scents.
The one time I was in the hospital, someone gave me a bouquet of gorgeous star-gazer lilies--one of my favorite flowers, up till then.
Their sweet smell was so strong, in the middle of the night I got up and wheeled my IV-pole across the room so I could move the bouquet into the bathroom.
Bonus: NOT HELPFUL THINGS:
1. Unasked for [medical] advice!
If you are an expert––say, a nutritionist, a doctor, a psychic, (a blogger?)––ask the person first if they want your input.
They might. But maybe not.
2. Interpreting people's experiences for them.
Don't say things like,
"God wouldn't give you anything you couldn't handle."
"This must be a manifestation of an emotional/spiritual issue of yours."
"You should eat/drink/dose yourself to the gills with {x, y, z}."
Susan wrote in her "least favorite, loopy, non-helpful phrase, Everything happens for a reason".
Oh, yeah. Don't say that.
3. Sharing similar experiences . . . that had bad outcomes.
4. Chipmunks in the house.
I cannot recommend the introduction of wild animals, no matter how cute and small, into an already stressful life.
(Yes, it's still here. Earlier, the cats let me know it's hiding under the stove.
Now I am chilling on the front porch with the cats and a glass of rosé, hoping Chipster will exit out the wide-open back door.)
_______________________________
(bink's partner has been sick since March––the diagnosis is elusive--a battery of tests is ongoing––so she's talking from current experience.)
Here's a list we came up with of How to Offer Help and Support.
This may seem obvious, but in our experience, it's not always (or not always forthcoming, or easy to do, anyway).
It could also apply to people in a state of emotional need, like grief, as well as people who are sick, or caring for someone who is sick, or otherwise burdened.
bink says, "When a friend who was like my brother died, I remember standing in the frozen food aisle staring at the Stouffer's frozen dinners. I was so indecisive, I could not choose one. I stood there for a long time, like 45 minutes, in a daze before I just took one."
Probably some tips apply to most of us, physically distanced because of the Covid-19 pandemic.
What do you think?
If you have tips to add, please leave them in the comments. Thanks!
 |
| How may we be of assistance with our tiny arms? |
How to Offer Help and Support
1. Support 1.01: Make some effort to be in contact, however small.
Even if you are not usually in contact with the person, this is a time when a little means a lot.
You don't have to offer to help, or even talk about whatever's up.
Send a card. Text or email. Say,
"I'm thinking about you. I know things are tough."
[When my mother killed herself, I really, really didn't want the disquisitions on the morality of suicide that two separate people wrote me. Most comforting were things such as a card with a weeping willow that said,
"I am so sorry. Love, Your Old Friend".]
More intimate: Call, Zoom, FaceTime, or visit in person (through the window, maybe).
If you pray or light candles or do any suchlike spiritual practice, let the person know, if you think it is welcome.
But be sensitive--this could be triggering for some! (For instance, a friend who grew up in a cult cannot tolerate even the kindest offers of prayer.)
Help is about offering help that is helpful to the other person, not about displaying our faith, right? no matter how loving and well-intentioned.
KEY ⇒ Don't be hurt if someone doesn't want your help or doesn't reciprocate.
It's not personal! (Or . . .maybe it is, but now is not the time to get into it.)
Quite likely they are overwhelmed and exhausted.
This is a time to give with no expectations of return.
2-a. * * * The BIGGEST, most excellent practical help: Bring or send pre-made meals--in a way that doesn't make ANY work for the recipient. "It's like a miracle," bink says.
Gold Star Option: buy or prepare an entire meal––entrée and sides, dessert, and a bottle of something.
Freeze and deliver a "hot dish", as we say in Minnesota, or––best of all––deliver a hot meal.
Or have one delivered. If you're out of town, you can order online--most places deliver now.
BE AWARE OF DIETARY RESTRICTIONS. Best to ask.
(bink is allergic to dairy, her partner is allergic to gluten--a pizza would be wasted on them.)
You could call and say,
"We're going to buy/bring you dinner from [name of place] on Friday--look at the menu and tell us what you want.
We'll order, pay, and pick up for you (or have delivered) at 6 p.m."
2-b. RELATED: Groceries.
Ask what groceries they want delivered, and leave them on the doorstep. (If you don't have the money, they can pay for their groceries: your time and effort is the huge gift.)
Food surprises aren't always good, unless you know people's food restrictions. But something like a fruit basket is probably pretty safe---and surprisingly nice.
Or... things that people always need, like toilet paper!
I love grocery-store rotisserie roast chickens, but someone brought me a jar of peanut butter and some cans of soup once, and that remains high on my lifetime list of kindnesses.
3. Invite conversation, ask for news, if you are willing and wanting to be more involved.
It doesn't hurt to state the obvious.
Ongoing pain, worry, sleeplessness--these all fog the brain.
"I care."
"How are you doing with this situation?"
"Did you get the test results?"
"How is this for you?"
Michael suggests the question, "Are you okay?" Or plain old chit-chat--more on that here:
the "Small Talk Saves Lives" campaign from the British group the Samaritans (re: suicide prevention, but it applies widely).
Be aware the person may not want to talk. That's okay too.
4. Offer help: "I want to help. What can I do for you?"
You can be specific in your offer. (When a person is fatigued, answering "What can I do for you?" can be tiring.)
Make suggestions:
Do you need something picked up? A ride to the doctor?
Tech support?
("May I help you with the new Blogger?")
It's harder in the time of Covid, when you can't offer to scrub someone's bathtub, but there are errands you can do from a distance:
mow a yard, walk a dog, go to the post office.
If people don't want help, they can say so.
Offer more than once, though. People are sometimes shy to take you up on your offer, or may be overwhelmed and can't think of anything on the spot.
5. Send or drop off or order something to occupy time or be a physical reminder that you care.
Being sick or stressed can be oddly BORING... Distraction offers great relief.
I'm a big believer in the power of The Small Gift.
A puzzle, book, magazine subscription, DVD...
Anything handmade! (Almost.)
My father kept a painting of some onions I'd water-colored by his bedside in his final weeks.
Or pay for a service---like a subscription to stream Criterion movies or PBS shows, music from iTunes, etc.
An attractive face mask?
A fancy toothbrush in a designer color?
Toys????
Flowers can be nice. (If they have pets––especially cats, which climb up where bouquets are––watch out for plants that are poison to animals, like lilies.)
Also, watch out for strong scents.
The one time I was in the hospital, someone gave me a bouquet of gorgeous star-gazer lilies--one of my favorite flowers, up till then.
Their sweet smell was so strong, in the middle of the night I got up and wheeled my IV-pole across the room so I could move the bouquet into the bathroom.
Bonus: NOT HELPFUL THINGS:
1. Unasked for [medical] advice!
If you are an expert––say, a nutritionist, a doctor, a psychic, (a blogger?)––ask the person first if they want your input.
They might. But maybe not.
2. Interpreting people's experiences for them.
Don't say things like,
"God wouldn't give you anything you couldn't handle."
"This must be a manifestation of an emotional/spiritual issue of yours."
"You should eat/drink/dose yourself to the gills with {x, y, z}."
Susan wrote in her "least favorite, loopy, non-helpful phrase, Everything happens for a reason".
Oh, yeah. Don't say that.
3. Sharing similar experiences . . . that had bad outcomes.
"My uncle had what you have.
He had to have his arm cut off.
...And then he died."
4. Chipmunks in the house.
I cannot recommend the introduction of wild animals, no matter how cute and small, into an already stressful life.
(Yes, it's still here. Earlier, the cats let me know it's hiding under the stove.
Now I am chilling on the front porch with the cats and a glass of rosé, hoping Chipster will exit out the wide-open back door.)
_______________________________
Take away: Do something, say something.
People easily become isolated when we're sick or struggling, and we can't always reach out or ask for help.
"Simple" activities like getting dressed and making meals may take up our daily quota of energy.
Show some love.
Great ideas thank you. Hope the chipmunk left. Oliver regularly brings mice indoors then loses them. There are so many places for them to hide that I just have to hope they escape, or the cats catch them again and I can save them. (Like the snails and spiders!)
ReplyDeleteThis is a great list.
ReplyDelete“Are you okay?” is esp. helpful if you don’t know if someone is in need.
I second the warning against sharing bad outcomes — but I think I’d say bad or good. Bad can feel overwhelming, but good might feel just as bad — the person talking may have no idea how serious the situation really is, and the reassurance might feel hollow. It’s esp. hard when the speaker has some genuine expertise and thinks they’re helping.
For snagging mice, and maybe chipmunks, a really deep dustpan can be a useful tool, the kind with a big covered pocket of sorts to hold the dirt. (The one we have empties from the back when you squeeze the handle. There’s also the old-timey lobby dust pan.) Try to box the critter in with a broom, get it in the pan, hold the pan upward (or if it’s a lobby pan, lift it up to close it), and take it outside to let the critter run free. You can guess how I know this works. Just make sure to get the critter outside before it’s able to signal others to help.
I have found that nuts work with squirrley type creatures.
ReplyDeleteA very good, thoughtful list -- and a lot to think about. Sorry the chipmunk is still hanging around! I'm sure he/she is terrified and would love to get back outside. Maybe Linda Sue's nut bait idea would work -- can you get a humane trap?
ReplyDeleteThanks, everyone---the chipmunk left after about 24 hours.
ReplyDeleteMICHAEL: Good point about sharing good outcomes too.