Why Me? Coping with cancer and survivor’s guilt

This has been a very hard week.

I think it’s common for people to ask “Why me?” when they’re diagnosed with cancer or another life threatening illness, but that wasn’t my experience. In fact, I clearly remember thinking, “Why not me?” After all, nearly 2 in 5 Canadians are expected to develop cancer at some point in their lives. Why wouldn’t I be one of them?

There are times though when I do ask “Why me?” When I walk into the cancer clinic for an appointment and see patients who are so much worse off than I am, I can’t help wondering why I’ve been so fortunate and they haven’t. Surviving longer, having an easier time with treatments, and/or experiencing fewer side effects often cause cancer patients like me to experience what’s known as survivor’s guilt. This is a complex emotional response where survivors feel guilty, sad or unworthy for living and recovering while others don’t.

Once again, this week has left me asking, “Why me?” In a period of less than 48 hours, we lost two very special people to cancer. One, our son-in-law’s younger sister, was a woman in her early 40s whose youngest child is still in high school. The second was a very dear friend who we first met in 2013 when we were teaching English in China and her husband was on staff with us. As couples, we did many things together, even traveling and climbing the Great Wall together. Since they retired to Mexico several years ago, we’ve visited them several times and had many more interesting adventures together. Why is it that, almost 12 and a half years after being diagnosed with an incurable cancer, I continue to live a fairly normal and productive life while both these women suffered much more than I have and are gone less than a year after diagnosis? Logically, I know that their cancers were more aggressive than mine, but I can’t help asking why I’m still here and they are not.

There are, of course, no answers to these questions.  I can only conclude that God isn’t finished with me yet and determine to make good use of whatever time I have left. In fact, that’s one of the recommended ways of dealing with survivor’s guilt and I suspect it’s the reason that I’ve felt driven these past few years to do many of the things I do. Things like editing loan descriptions for Kiva, a nonprofit organization that facilitates microloans to help alleviate poverty in underprivileged areas of the world. Things like writing letters for a Christian prison ministry and helping lead a provincial patient support group. These are things that help me find purpose and meaning in survival.

I also know that guilt, including survivor’s guilt, is one of the common stages of grieving. As I grieve the losses that we’ve experienced this week, I know that it’s normal for me to be feeling this way right now and so I acknowledge the feeling and don’t despair.

What not to say to grieving parents

This has been a very tough week. Young friends of ours were involved in a tragic accident that took the life of one of their children. Two others are still in critical condition. Immediately after the accident occurred, we were called and asked to go to the hospital because, as parents who lost a child a long time ago, “you will know what to do.”

What do you do in a situation like that? What do you say? We went, but we said very little. There really are no words that are adequate at a time like that. A hug, a gentle touch, or even just your presence might be all that is needed.

Sometimes even the most well-intentioned words can be hurtful, so here are a few things not to say to a grieving parent.

  1.  “I know how you feel.” No, you don’t! Regardless of how close you are or even if you’ve lost a child yourself, you can’t know how another person feels.
  2. “She’s in a better place.” Even if you believe that to be true, it doesn’t address the parent’s tremendous sense of loss. A parent wants their child to be right here, right now.
  3. “God must have needed another angel.” First of all, that’s theologically unsound. People don’t become angels when they die and even if they did, according to Revelation 5:11 God has “thousands upon thousands” of angels. He doesn’t need another one. 
  4. “Everything happens for a reason.” What possible comfort could that be to a parent who has lost a child?
  5. “At least you have other children.” or “You can always have another child.” While these statements might be true, one child can never replace another. 
  6. “Be thankful for the time you had with him.” Unless the parent expresses this sentiment themselves, it’s not appropriate to tell them how they should feel. 
  7. “Call me if there’s anything I can do.” While this is a generous thought, asking for help is difficult at the best of times and a parent in the midst of profound grief might not even know what they need. Instead, look for something specific that you can to do, then offer or if it’s appropriate, simply go ahead and do it.
  8. Finally, try not to make suggestions about what you think they should or shouldn’t do. As Ernest Hemingway once said, “In our darkest moments, we don’t need advice.”

Do offer sincere condolences. It’s enough to simply say, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Don’t be afraid to show emotion and as time goes by, don’t hesitate to mention the child by name and to share favourite memories of him. 

Lastly, remember that the old adage “time heals all wounds” is not true. While the intense pain of immediate loss does soften with time, a parent’s heart never truly heals. We don’t “get over” our loss, we simply learn to live with it.