“I need a friend”.
This opening appeal held my attention a decade ago as I read the letter I received from a dying cancer patient I had met a few days earlier at
She was 27 years old. She lived in a box.
For the previous 18 months, she had lived in a prison cell. But ‘box’ was a metaphor for her life experiences. Our physicians and nurses no doubt had made comments to/about her that had, without intending to harm her, once more stuffed her into some box -- the AIDS box . . . the ovarian cancer box . . . the drug-abuser box . . . the prostitute box . . . the criminal box.
As I read her letter a second time, I remember asking myself -- Who is this ‘I’ who needs a friend? Is her appeal for a friend genuine? What is she asking me to do? Will I look for a way to respond without running any risks? Can I be genuinely present with her?
No one would have known if I had simply discarded the letter. Instead, I risked reaching to this woman. I think my decision had primarily to do with the fact that I had never -- even in my darkest moments – felt stuffed by everyone around me into some ‘box’. Here is the letter I sent to her:
I am honored that you took seriously the invitation to contact me. Your letter arrived two days ago. I have read it several times. Yes, I remember our visit. But please do not let it bother you that our conversation is a bit blurry. You had a lot to think about.
As I tried to explain to you then, one thing I do is to help our physicians -- young and old -- and our patients understand each other very well when hard choices have to be made. I listened closely as you described to the physician and nurse your feelings and your views about your health care history.
As I have thought about our conversation and your letter, I have found myself wondering -- How did she first learn about her illnesses? How did she react to being told about her illnesses? Did anyone try to give her a medical explanation that she could understand? Who first used words like ‘AIDS’ or ‘cancer’? What does she think about when she hears these words? Is it difficult for her to explain to others who ask how she is doing?
You mentioned doing “a lot of soul-searching”. I would welcome the chance to hear from you about this experience.
Please do not feel pressured to comment if my questions make you feel uncomfortable. They are part of my response to your saying, “I need a friend”. If you mean “I need someone who will try to see that there is more to me than my mistakes and illnesses” or “I need someone who will not forget me”, then maybe I can be a friend.
I did not hear from her. She died several days later. I have not forgotten her.
Think about it. Perhaps talk to a coworker.
