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Perfectly Imperfect Lee Woodruff, Random House (page 7 of 8) Page 7 of 8

6. BE SENSITIVE TO WHAT THEY NEED TO HEAR

Don’t be afraid to acknowledge the person’s pain. It’s okay to say “This stinks, but I’m here every step of the way.” The most helpful comments you can make involve letting the patient or friend know they’re being heard.

This is a delicate balance because you don’t want to minimize things with trite greeting-card philosophy, but nor do you want to underscore the dire nature of the person’s situation. This is where you need to use your sixth sense and assess where that person is, emotionally, at any given moment. It may seesaw from hour to hour. Take your lead from them about what you think they need to hear. It’s always comforting to be told, “Let’s talk about you for a moment — I’m here to listen if you feel like unburdening.”

One of my most precious e- mails at the time came from our friend Jim Wooten, a colleague of Bob’s at ABC News and a veteran reporter and writer. It arrived at a time when I was tired of hearing about how incredibly strong I was but, rather, just needed to hear that I could simply do this. That it was all possible. Jim wrote,

My only counsel to you is this: make sure to take as meticulously good care of every aspect of your beautiful self — physically, emotionally, and psychologically—as you do of Bob and the children. I can’t stress too much how important that is for both the short and long term, and for everyone involved. You must already understand that you are the most critical component in this difficult equation; and without you as a vibrantly healthy person, it gets even more difficult...and, dare I say it, maybe impossible.

I told you in the hospital that my mother-in- law had a motto about her own life, with all its ups and downs: You play the cards you’re dealt. I realize in retrospect that it was a fairly silly and perhaps a slightly cruel thing to say to you, especially given the awful cards you’ve been dealt in the last three months. It’s possible that the best approach really is to never stop trying to get your hands on the deck and start dealing them yourself. In other words, to begin determining, to the degree possible, your own destiny and direction.... It seems to me that the more you’re in control, the less disappointed you’ll be in what goes on.

I printed that email out, and it still makes me cry when I read it and sense the kindness, empathy, and honesty embedded in the message, the stark and simple concern for me above all else at that moment. I taped the email to the window over my computer at home and vowed I would never stop trying to get my hands on the deck. And somewhere, in that grueling process, I would try to set an example for my children in the midst of this frightening tailspin.

7. THINK PRACTICALLY ABOUT WHAT PEOPLE REALLY NEED

Food, in any time of crisis, is one of the most useful gifts. People have to eat if they want to keep going. This is also true in a hospital setting, since it can be used to “gently bribe” the nursing staff and win friends among the medical professionals. A batch of brownies works wonders at improving the speed with which a call to the nursing staff is answered. The “Brownie Lady” in room 205 also has a much better chance of being on the radar at the nurses’ station in those wee hours of the morning when a loved one needs pain medication.

However, for those of you putting together food chains for friends, remember that you don’t necessarily need to schedule dinner every single day. Most folks are very generous, and the leftovers begin to pile up. I ended up feeling guilty as I gave away — and sometimes even had to throw away — food that people had so lovingly prepared.

It also frustrated and disturbed me when my kids would lift the foil on the pan and groan, “Not lasagna again!” It’s hard to write this and not sound ungrateful, but if you are going to go to the effort of making someone dinner, try to find out from the point person what others have brought over that week.

Stuffed animals, large objects, and flowers in the hospital are cheery, but they often translate into things that just need to be moved from room to room or take up space in cramped quarters. Consider practical gifts instead, like pajamas, a luxury soap, a new toothbrush, or slippers. A set of thank- you notes is one of the most useful and helpful gifts you can give the patient.

Also, don’t tell the patient or caregiver to call you if they need anything. That puts the burden of asking for help on them. Instead, suggest something specific you can do to help out: a ride for the kids or a sleepover, a dinner brought to the house (without dishes that need to be returned), cutting the lawn, or walking the dog. Make decisions for them on the details as much as possible. This includes whether or not they’d like chicken or fish. Just do it!

8. CHOOSE YOUR WORDS AND ACTIONS WISELY

Resist the urge to repeatedly tell the person, “You are so strong.” They don’t always feel strong, and they don’t want to have to act strong in front of you or hold back tears so as not to disappoint your expectations or impressions of them.

And don’t expect the patient or caregiver to immediately return your phone call or email. All of their energy right now is focused on themselves (if they are the patient) or their loved one and their other immediate family members. They are being interrupted about every fifteen minutes by medical staff of all sorts, they are talking to doctors, undergoing procedures, perhaps worrying about their children or elderly parents, tending to the immediately critical tasks at home, and, overall, being torn in many directions.

With each concerned phone call I got from a friend who told me that they just needed to hear my voice, I felt more inadequate. “Call me,” well-meaning friends would plead into my answering machine. “I have to know what is happening.” All that did was pile one more ounce of guilt and failure on my shoulders and add to my to- do list another thing that I knew I wouldn’t be able to accomplish — definitely not that day, or maybe ever. If you feel the need to reach out in the midst of the crisis, just leave a message that starts with “You don’t need to call me back, I just wanted you to know I am thinking of you.”

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Excerpted from Perfectly Imperfect by Lee Woodruff Copyright © 2009 by Lee Woodruff. Excerpted by permission of Random House Group, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

 Comments [2]

I think Lee has a beautiful, healthy perspective on her husband's injury. It's not always black and white. It's normal to have to filter through your feelings after a tragedy. Thank you (btw, I'm a severe TBI Survivor of 14 years, so I can relate first hand).

Aug 6th, 2009 7:04pm

Easy read, but I'm 3 years into my husband's profound brain injury. Unlike the Woodruff's, our savings are gone, we may lose our home, and my husband DID have to be parked in a personal care home. Good for her, that it worked out, but she has the resources to make it through. Rather self-indulgent from my point of view.

Jul 8th, 2009 1:15pm