Five Unsolvable Problems, One Moral

So my mom calls me up to tell me about a special family get-together and wants to know if I can be there. I tell her I can be after I finish my work day. She seems pleased.

As an afterthought, she asks, "How are you doing, anyway?" It's been a few weeks since we've had a substantive conversation, so I tell her that it's been a challenging time for me. Two women I knew died of breast cancer recently. And my friend Tim is in the hospital. He's really sick. And I can't visit because of my compromised immune system. This makes me sad. It's just been difficult processing all of this.

My mom says, "Well Kathy, you need to find some healthy friends!"

I guess my mom wasn't in the mood to have a substantive conversation.

This remark has been rolling around in my brain ever since that night. I am relatively certain that my mother intended it to be a joke, a tactic to lighten up the conversation. But I took it much more deeply to heart than that. Because I've learned from experience that hurtful remarks designed as jokes or jabs reflect a reality that honestly exists in the mind or heart of the deliverer of such jokes or jabs. So in a sense, I believed that my mother was suggesting I find healthy friends.

This comment made by my mother presents various problems. Problem #1: I am part of the care-giving team that supports Tim LaFollette during his challenging battle with ALS / Lou Gehrig's. Am I supposed to say sorry Tim....I can't hang out with you anymore because you're sick? Maybe when your ALS goes away, we can be friends?

Problem #2: I'm sick. I have an auto-immune condition that will never ever go away. The treatment that I undergo weekly for this condition is basically a band-aid that covers up an issue no one knows how to fix. And I had cancer last year. Does that mean I can't be friends with myself? Does that mean that healthy people can't be my friends?

Problem #3: I go to the cancer center every week for treatment. I encounter a lot of sick people in the communal waiting area. I usually talk with them briefly while we wait for treatment or for a doctor's visit. I try to be kind and compassionate. Because I know what it's like to be in their shoes. And I want to help them feel a bit of happiness, a bit of hope, even if only for a second. Am I to stop interacting with these folks? Would I not be hypocritical to call them sick when I, too, am sick?

Problem #4: How does one define "healthy?" I would venture to guess that most everyone has something wrong with them. Whether it's hemorrhoids, depression, arthritis, a bum knee, a bad back, a lung disease or a headache: we all have an ailment of one kind or another.

Problem #5: What does one do if a "friend" gets a cold or has a headache? Does one stop being their friend until the temporary ailment passes? And then how can one be sure their ailment has totally passed and they aren't just saying they're well in order to be one's friend?

My mother's remark made me angry. But I was only partially angry at her. Mostly, I was angry at myself for not having the presence of mind or the wherewithal to call her out on the hurtfulness of it. Rather than take care of my feelings in the moment by saying, "Wow Mom. That hurt," I choked. My throat closed up. I sputtered out a defensive response, "I have healthy friends, too, Mom and we do fun things together."

I vow to be more vigilant about calling out a hurtful moment in the moment that it transpires. My happiness is far more important than my hurt. Life is just too short.