Sometimes all it takes is a small gesture to warm the heart of a cancer patient. It doesn't take anything huge. It shouldn't cause any stress or discomfort. And it shouldn't require a whole lot of thought. It should be simple. Simply simple.
A whole lot of small gestures spread a whole lot of cheer my way when I was knee-deep in cancer treatment and needed a lift. Cozy socks kept my feet and my spirits toasty. A package of brownies sweetened my sour days. Flowers brightened my dining room and my state of mind. Books left on my doorstep delivered knowledge and wisdom and a bit of humor to my world.
The options for spreading sunshine are endless. The list of possibilities could go on and on. Here is just a start -- a small list of small gestures that can make a dreary day downright delightful.
Give a hug
Send a handwritten letter
Make a homemade card
Write a poem
Give a journal
Deliver a candle
Make a home-cooked meal
Arrange for food delivery
Babysit children
Play with children
Drive to appointments
Go wig or hat shopping
Visit during chemotherapy sessions
Give something comfy -- socks, pajamas, hat
Do grocery shopping
Accompany to lunch, dinner, movie
Take a walk
Attend church
Have a picnic
Go fishing
Make a donation to favorite charity
Walk, run, volunteer, raise funds in honor of your special someone
Be specific in your gesturing. Trade a comment like "let me know if I can do anything" for "I'm going to come over and wash and clean your car on Saturday." Vague offers are rarely successful -- cancer patients are not likely to recall every general offer they receive and then manage them all into a schedule. It's just too much to consider in the midst of turmoil. But an offer that comes to life right before them is easy. It's effortless. It is truly a gift. A simple, priceless gift.


The Northwest Arkansas Morning News is featuring a story about Nicole Young, and her new non-profit Message In A Bottle project, that is providing inspiration to cancer patients and their families with hand-written messages delivered in a bottle.
I sometimes complain about the lack of warmth I've encountered from medical professionals throughout my journey with breast cancer. There have been glimpses of compassion. And there are a few who stand out as truly caring and concerned. But there seems to be a general lack of sensitivity. Maybe it's a side effect of the job -- distance -- that I should have been prepared for. But instead I was shocked by how I often felt forgotten, like a number, just one of many in my same boat. And this makes me sad -- for me and for all the others who sail rough waters in search of health. I have waited in lobbies for hours -- four hours one time -- and I've been encouraged to toughen up. I've rarely felt comforted -- except by a few who have hugged me or placed a hand on my shoulder. That's all it takes. A simple gesture or kind word. 







