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	<title>talkingaboutcancer.com &#187; Communication</title>
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	<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com</link>
	<description>Helping with the emotional impact of cancer.</description>
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		<title>COMING SOON!</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/81</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/81#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 22 Nov 2009 01:34:08 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Events]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I am very, very happy to tell you that my new book, The Wolf at my Door, will be available for ordering shortly through this site and most on-line bookstores.  I love to write and, throughout my cancer journey, I kept a meticulous journal of every bit of news, every treatment, every side effect and [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I am very, very happy to tell you that my new book, <em><strong>The Wolf at my Door</strong></em>, will be available for ordering shortly through this site and most on-line bookstores.  <img title="The Wolf at my Door" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2734/4122815867_0f4e88fc9d_m.jpg" alt="The Wolf at my Door" width="158" height="240" align="right" /></p>
<p>I love to write and, throughout my cancer journey, I kept a meticulous journal of every bit of news, every treatment, every side effect and every moment of fear, sadness and occasionally joy.  I decided to write this book in the same spirit of this blog &#8211; to share the tremendous emotional ups and downs that go hand in hand with being diagnosed and living with cancer.  It is written for anyone with any type of cancer and for their loved ones who share the emotional disease that is just as devastating as the physical disease.</p>
<p>Stay tuned and think about what kind of Christmas gift you could get for the cancer patient who has everything!</p>
<p>I think you will like it.</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug </em></p>
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		<title>Writing</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/76</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/76#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 08 Sep 2009 17:36:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Coping]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Anyone reading this blog regularly knows that I love to write.  I&#8217;ve always been that way and I find the creative process, regardless of what I&#8217;m writing, to be very therapeutic for me.  So while there are often some gaps in my writing on this site, I will always be back.  I have a lot [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Anyone reading this blog regularly knows that I love to write.  I&#8217;ve always been that way and I find the creative process, regardless of what I&#8217;m writing, to be very therapeutic for me.  So while there are often some gaps in my writing on this site, I will always be back.  I have a lot to say and to share.</p>
<p>I reached a significant milestone just last night when I submitted the manuscript of my new book to the publisher, hoping to have it available by Christmas.  This book has been 7 years in writing because it is built upon the journal that I kept from shortly after my diagnosis in 2002 through my treatment, recovery and recurrence.  It has been through many revisions and additions as I experienced more and more along my cancer journey.</p>
<p>The working title and subtitle of the book is, &#8220;The Wolf at my Door &#8211; Cancer in my body, Cancer in my mind&#8221;.  I wrote it, much like this blog, to use my personal cancer experience as a way to show cancer patients and their loved ones what they can expect when faced with this horrible disease.  My premise is that the emotional impact of cancer can be as real and as dangerous as the physical disease and affects the patient and everyone who loves them.  &#8220;The Wolf at my Door&#8221; is a metaphor for the fear that cancer creates and the uncertainty that is always hanging over our heads. </p>
<p>I wrote this book for several reasons.  First of all, I wrote if for myself, and I encourage everyone to at least keep a journal or diary of their cancer journey.  It&#8217;s good for the soul.  I also wrote it for my family and friends, to share with them the intense emotional roller coaster that I have been on.  You can share your own journal with your family and friends to help them understand what you are going through.  You just can&#8217;t know unless you&#8217;ve been through it personally and they need to know in order to support you.  Thirdly, I wrote it for anyone who has been diagnosed with cancer or who has been told by a member of their family or a friend that they have cancer.  I hope it gets wide distribution for that reason and I hope that you will all get a copy and recommend it to your friends.  In the meantime, if you have an urge to write, we are always looking for comments or for your own personal posts (click on Contact Us above).  As I always say, &#8220;Let&#8217;s Talk!&#8221;</p>
<p>I&#8217;ll let you know when my book comes out and how to get a copy.</p>
<p><em>Posted by: Doug</em></p>
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		<title>Talking, reacting, understanding&#8230;&#8230;.</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/57</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/57#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Nov 2008 03:06:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Cancer is such a complicated thing and so difficult to talk about, even with close friends and family.  I am continually amazed at the range of responses, types of questions, and reactions when the subject comes up.  Here are a few recent examples to give you an idea. Sometimes there is a message in the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Cancer is such a complicated thing and so difficult to talk about, even with close friends and family.  I am continually amazed at the range of responses, types of questions, and reactions when the subject comes up.  Here are a few recent examples to give you an idea.</p>
<p>Sometimes there is a message in the silence.  Recently, my daughter moved from a basement apartment to a nice new condo.  It was one of those situations where the timing all went wrong and she didn&#8217;t get all the help that she would normally have.  So she and her roommate rented a truck and did it themselves, with Mom helping with the settling in after.  Not once did she ask me for help.  I would have in a heartbeat, but she didn&#8217;t ask and I know it is because she knew it would be hard on me (as I continue to struggle with pain and medication side effects).  Normally, she doesn&#8217;t talk much about my situation anyway, but in this case, her silence said it all.  It told me that she understands, and that she cares like the wonderful, grown-up young lady that she has become.  How great is that?</p>
<p>Here&#8217;s another one.  I had a long overdue call from one of my relatives the other day, a man not normally short on words.  Having had the experience of his own wife dying from cancer, he clearly understood the issues that I was facing.  When I told him that my main hope was that they would find a cure for my cancer while my treatments were slowing down its advance, he said, &#8220;Well we know there&#8217;s a fat chance of that.&#8221;  He said what he believed and that is just the way he is.  Thankfully I&#8217;m not sensitive enough to have taking it badly, but I venture to guess that my friend Lori Hope would not have included that one in her wonderful book, &#8220;<a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1587612127/eastbayagencyfor" target="_blank"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic">Help Me Live: 20 Things People with Cancer Want You to Know</span></a>, which we profiled earlier.  I think I just chuckled after I hung up the phone.</p>
<p>In a different vein, we had some good friends over for dinner the other night and one of my buddies started congratulating me on my &#8220;great news&#8221;.  At first, I didn&#8217;t know what he was talking about but then I realized he was referring to the fact that my PSA had gone undetectable as a result of my hormone therapy.  You see, I know that this is a temporary thing because this effect may only last for a few years (although it could last longer) but it became clear that he thought it might be something that would last permanently.  I found myself not knowing exactly what to say and, in explaining the reality to him, I was uncomfortable and felt that I was taking something away from his gregarious hopefulness and well intentioned best wishes.  I love him for his concern and thank him for his kind thoughts, but my point here is - if I was uncomfortable talking to him, how much more uncomfortable must it be for others to talk to me about it?</p>
<p>Complicated, isn&#8217;t it?</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug</em></p>
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		<title>Protecting Your Loved Ones?</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/55</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/55#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Nov 2008 17:46:51 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I had another great chat with my friend and counselor, Andrew, yesterday and he gave me some good advice that I wanted to share with you all. As I look ahead to what the future may bring for me, I worry enormously about the impact it will have on my wife and kids, particularly my [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I had another great chat with my friend and counselor, Andrew, yesterday and he gave me some good advice that I wanted to share with you all.</p>
<p>As I look ahead to what the future may bring for me, I worry enormously about the impact it will have on my wife and kids, particularly my dear wife who is my soul mate and who truly is the most important person in my life.  I know this is normal for two people who love each other as much as we do, but a critical or terminal illness significantly complicates any relationship.  I worry more about her and her future than I do about me.  I mean that.  I have this disease and it sucks, but I have to deal with it and I will deal with it.  But for Dianne, she is like an innocent victim and I can&#8217;t help but feel responsible in a big way for the impact it has on her.  So I am constantly worried about sharing with her how I feel and, in particular, of showing my emotions when she is feeling raw herself.  I just don&#8217;t want to upset her any more than she already is.  I don&#8217;t want to compound things.  But Andrew put it in perspective for me.</p>
<p>He said that I needed to talk when I have to and show my emotions when I&#8217;m feeling them, no matter how Dianne is feeling at the time.  Dianne has to experience her own fear and grief, and sharing that with me is an important part of coping.  But that goes both ways.  She needs to see and feel what I&#8217;m feeling so that we can both develop the strength to deal with whatever will come.  He suggested that it might, at times, spiral out of control a bit, but that was okay.  We would handle it and we would be stronger for it.</p>
<p>There have been many bumps and heartaches on this long journey and there are many more to come.  I am blessed that I don&#8217;t have to travel it alone.   And if I can do it openly and honestly, it will be better for both of us.</p>
<p>Thanks Andrew.  You have lifted a burden off both of us.  For anyone else out there in the same boat, don&#8217;t fear to share.</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug </em></p>
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		<title>The Stomach is tied to the Heart</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/53</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/53#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 06 Oct 2008 12:16:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I&#8217;ve written a number of posts about how important friends and family are when you are going through cancer treatments.  It&#8217;s the little things, sometimes, that mean the most.  Supporting someone with cancer is not all about talking and offering direct support, but sometimes just being a caring friend in other ways is enough. The [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I&#8217;ve written a number of posts about how important friends and family are when you are going through cancer treatments.  It&#8217;s the little things, sometimes, that mean the most.  Supporting someone with cancer is not all about talking and offering direct support, but sometimes just being a caring friend in other ways is enough.</p>
<p>The day I received my last CT Scan results is a case in point.  It was a no-bad-news report so we treated it as good news &#8211; great news, in fact &#8211; and after sharing that with our great friends next door, they spontaneously invited us out for dinner.  Their treat!  We were thrilled at their gesture and found it a great way to cap off the day.  We didn&#8217;t speak much about the tests or about my disease, but instead just enjoyed the company.  When they insisted on paying the bill, I didn&#8217;t object, because it was their way of doing something for us and turning it into a polite, socially correct argument would have taken something away from them.</p>
<p>On two other occasions, my best friend Steve, dropped by and made us dinner.  He loves to cook and, as much as he has trouble talking about my situation, he wants to be here for support and this is a great way of doing it.  Each time, he didn&#8217;t stay too long as he knew we were tired and stressed and he knew that a couple of hours and a good meal were enough.  I treasure this great friendship and know that he will always be there for me.</p>
<p>So, if someone you know our love has cancer, and if you can&#8217;t figure out how to provide support, think about this kind of gesture.  It doesn&#8217; have to be a meal in or out, but just dropping by for a visit can mean the world to them.  And if they don&#8217;t think they are up to it, let them know that it&#8217;s okay to say no.  There will be lots of opportunities to show your love and support.  But don&#8217;t hesitate.  Just do it, as they say!</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug  </em></p>
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		<title>Being Honest</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/52</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/52#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 31 Aug 2008 00:17:53 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[My dear wife and I were talking about this recently, in the context of my previous post.  I have a tendency, when people ask how I am, to say, &#8220;I&#8217;m fine,&#8221; even when I&#8217;m not.  It&#8217;s a natural response and one that becomes almost automatic.  Think about it&#8230;.. when you meet someone on the street [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>My dear wife and I were talking about this recently, in the context of my previous post.  I have a tendency, when people ask how I am, to say, &#8220;I&#8217;m fine,&#8221; even when I&#8217;m not.  It&#8217;s a natural response and one that becomes almost automatic.  Think about it&#8230;.. when you meet someone on the street and say, &#8220;Hi.  How are you?&#8221;, you&#8217;d be taken aback if they said, &#8220;Actually, I&#8217;ve been pretty crappy,&#8221; and then proceeded to describe their illness or misfortune or whatever.  So we generally just go with the automatic, unconscious response.  That&#8217;s what I do, and I find myself doing that even with good friends and family.</p>
<p>The fact is, I haven&#8217;t been fine.  Bad test results and aggressive treatments have taken their toll on me, both physically and emotionally.  I want my friends and family to ask after me because it shows that they care and that I have their support.  So why to I say I&#8217;m fine when they ask.  It&#8217;s that automatic thing.  Or maybe I don&#8217;t want to burden them.  Or bore them.  Or bring them down.  Or maybe all of that.  But, as my wife pointed out, I can&#8217;t expect my loved ones to understand what I&#8217;m going through or to show their concern and compassion, if I tell them I&#8217;m fine.  Maybe they will think that I&#8217;m not that badly off.  Maybe they&#8217;ll wonder if I&#8217;ve been over exaggerating in the past.  Maybe they&#8217;ll think that I am fine now and that they don&#8217;t have to worry any more.  And, if they do that, I will likely wonder later why they don&#8217;t seem concerned anymore.  How can I expect them to support me when I&#8217;m not truthful?</p>
<p>The message here is that it is very important to be honest and open with your friends and family.  While you can tell your casual acquaintances that you&#8217;re fine, don&#8217;t minimize to those who love you.  When they ask you how you are doing, they really want to know.  And even if they are uncomfortable hearing the truth, they need to know.  You need them to know.</p>
<p>Open communication is so important when you are facing a crisis such as a cancer diagnosis.  It is a horrible disease that most of us are not familiar with and, unless you have experienced it yourself, you don&#8217;t know what to expect.  If a close friend of mine is not well, I want to know about it.  Only then can I be in a position to offer my concern and my help.  So if I&#8217;m not well, I should let my loved ones know.  They want to know, I want to know and, in fact, I need to know.</p>
<p>Thank you for caring.</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug  </em></p>
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		<title>A Friend Indeed</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/48</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/48#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 17 Jun 2008 00:12:04 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I was speaking with Dr. Rob Buckman recently and, as always, it was meaningful, touching and uplifting. While I strive to find out what next-big-thing he is up to, it is hard to do that because he always manages to center the conversation on you. His level of interest and genuine compassion is almost intoxicating [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I was speaking with Dr. Rob Buckman recently and, as always, it was meaningful, touching and uplifting.  While I strive to find out what next-big-thing he is up to, it is hard to do that because he always manages to center the conversation on you.  His level of interest and genuine compassion is almost intoxicating and, for someone with cancer, he can help you see things that are sometimes hazy or, all too often, beyond our grasp &#8211; things like hope, perspective and a sense of humor.</p>
<p>I mention this because it is very difficult to find people to talk about how you feel, how you can cope, or to talk through the difficult decision-making process around treatment.  Some of us have &#8220;cancer buddies&#8221; or support groups or just plain good-old-friends who seem to understand.  These confidants don&#8217;t have to be doctors or even know very much about cancer.  All they really need is the capacity to listen and the ability to empathize.  Most of the time, we just need to talk things out and it is the talking that is therapeutic.  But talking to someone who isn&#8217;t listening, who isn&#8217;t opening their heart to yours, just doesn&#8217;t cut it.</p>
<p>The world needs more listeners, more empathizers, more people like Rob Buckman.  If you have friends or loved ones who have cancer, please remember that all it takes is a willingness to listen and an open heart.  Reach out to them.  Be a true friend.</p>
<p>Rob tells me I&#8217;m handling things &#8220;perfectly&#8221;.  Maybe I am (although there are times I wonder) but it made me feel good to hear him say it.  He is a good listener and I am honored to call him my friend.</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug </em></p>
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		<title>Elephant in the Room</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/46</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/46#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 12 May 2008 14:49:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/46</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Happy Mother&#8217;s Day! This weekend was all about family and, like many others, we spent it together with my mother and my brother and his wife. It was great to be in the company of people who love you on a day that celebrates life. For me, this day had a special significance given the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Happy Mother&#8217;s Day!  This weekend was all about family and, like many others, we spent it together with my mother and my brother and his wife.  It was great to be in the company of people who love you on a day that celebrates life.  For me, this day had a special significance given the fight that I am in.  Having cancer puts a whole new perspective on life and, in particular, what&#8217;s really important.  Family is important.  Love is very important.  Knowing that people love you and care for you is one of the great gifts of life.  But while I can bask in the love of my family and enjoy the day (as I now try to enjoy every single day), I know that there is a tension in the air.</p>
<p>I don&#8217;t really need to talk about it all the time, because I know that they care, but I know that it is on  everyone&#8217;s mind. They want to say something, but they don&#8217;t know what to say, so it goes unsaid.  And while we enjoy our time together, laughing and reminiscing, all that is unspoken hangs in the air.  My wife calls it the elephant in the room.</p>
<p>All we really need is for our loved ones to ask, &#8220;How are you doing?&#8221; That is enough to show their concern and interest and leaves it to us to decide what to say and how much to say.  We can dive right in if that&#8217;s what we feel we want or need, or we can keep it short and sweet.  That takes the pressure off of everyone.  It doesn&#8217;t require more than that.</p>
<p>We are all in this together and we need to be open and communicate.  It is always tough to know what to say, but all you really need to do is ask.</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug </em></p>
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		<title>The Big &#8220;C&#8221;</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/43</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/43#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 04 Apr 2008 01:46:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fear]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/43</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[There&#8217;s something about the word CANCER. When we hear that someone has cancer (regardless of the type or the prognosis) we drop our shoulders, tilt our heads and go, &#8220;Ooooohhhhh.&#8221; When we hear that we have cancer, our heart stops and we become deer in the headlights, imagining all of the horrors that we will [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>There&#8217;s something about the word CANCER.  When we hear that someone has cancer (regardless of the type or the prognosis) we drop our shoulders, tilt our heads and go, &#8220;Ooooohhhhh.&#8221;  When we hear that we have cancer, our heart stops and we become deer in the headlights, imagining all of the horrors that we will be faced with &#8211; sugery, radiation, chemotherapy, weakness&#8230;&#8230;. death.   A lot of this is just ignorance, because few people know much about the 200+ kinds of cancer, staging, etc., but some of it is just the fact that the word itself has become synonymous with disease and, yes, with death.  I see this all the time in the way that people react to the fact of my cancer, in the way they talk about it.  People say, &#8220;you&#8217;ll be fine,&#8221; but they don&#8217;t know; they just want to make you feel better &#8211; or maybe it makes them feel better.  I try to explain, as simply as I can, what is going on with me so they can understand the context of my feelings.  For the most part, people take it well, even if they don&#8217;t know what to say, and I feel better for the sharing.  But we have a long way to go.</p>
<p>This blog strives to help people understand the emotional impact of cancer so that they can be supportive and give strength to their friends and loved ones with cancer.  For cancer survivors and those with cancer, it can show that they are not alone and they can derive strength from others who have been in their shoes.</p>
<p>I believe that anyone faced with a life-threatening illness experiences many of the same emotional stresses but that over-reaching specter of cancer adds another dimension by enveloping everyone close to us with a shared fear.  This is why knowledge and understanding are so important.  The doctors can fight the physical disease but we ourselves must fight the emotional disease by being open about what we are feeling and by helping others understand.</p>
<p>Cancer is not always a death sentence.  It can be if it isn&#8217;t treated, but more than half the people diagnosed and treated will survive, some with little or no residual effect (at least physically).  Rob Buckman discusses this in his book, <em>Cancer is a word, not a sentence</em>, by clearly explaining the impacts and outcomes of the different cancers.  If we can better understand this and help others to understand, perhaps we can lessen the emotional stress and the pervasive feeling of gloom that prevents us from dealing with it in a more realistic way.</p>
<p>So read through all of the posts and comments on this site and visit the links we have posted, and follow the links on those sites.  Read the books that are recommended and lend them to your friends and family.  There are many of us out here who want to help.  Post your comments so we can all benefit from your experience and insight.</p>
<p>Let&#8217;s talk.</p>
<p><em>Posted by Doug</em></p>
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		<title>What to Say?</title>
		<link>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/33</link>
		<comments>http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/33#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Dec 2007 02:04:57 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Postmaster</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Communication]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Friends]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://talkingaboutcancer.com/archives/33</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Reading Lori Hope&#8217;s book ( see previous post) really highlighted for me how awkward it is when the subject of cancer comes up.  It&#8217;s one thing to talk about other people, but when it&#8217;s you or the person you are talking to who has cancer, it&#8217;s a whole different ball game.  When I was first [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Reading Lori Hope&#8217;s book ( see previous post) really highlighted for me how awkward it is when the subject of cancer comes up.  It&#8217;s one thing to talk about other people, but when it&#8217;s you or the person you are talking to who has cancer, it&#8217;s a whole different ball game.  When I was first diagnosed, I eventually told a lot of people and I was amazed at the variety of responses.  Some friends who I thought would be very empathetic and supportive were very uncomfortable talking about it while some casual acquaintances were amazingly warm and, well&#8230;. energizing.</p>
<p>I don&#8217;t really know what I expected, but I learned first hand what an uncomfortable thing cancer was.  It really is the elephant in the room.  If you have cancer, it is always on your mind, but I think other people don&#8217;t even want to talk about it.  Sure, friends and family want to know how you are and want to be supportive but, let&#8217;s face it, its not a happy topic.  Sometimes we don&#8217;t want to talk about it at all, but sometimes we just want the people we care for to acknowledge our pain.</p>
<p>So what do you say to someone you know who has cancer?  I&#8217;m sorry&#8230;..? You look good&#8230;&#8230;? How are you feeling&#8230;.?  If you have cancer, what do you want to hear from your friends.  Let&#8217;s hear your thoughts.</p>
<p><em> Posted by Doug </em></p>
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