What True Friendship Looks Like

By Bill McConnell

The Frightened Call

About five years ago my friend Roy's wife Anne called me and told me that her husband had cancer.  Anne was afraid. She wanted someone to come over and just listen to her. I told her I would be over immediately. She was frantic, and the anxiety was difficult to be with. Still, I just listened for 45 minutes. 

Roy was at the hospital for about three weeks. His cancer had developed in the lymph glands of his groin. He had all the questions of why it had happened. He did everything right: he worked out at the Y,  did not drink or smoke, ate the proper foods. He just could not understand.

During the three weeks, I spent all my free time with Roy, especially in the evenings and on weekends, giving Anne a break. His mind was clear. I read to him and we began to talk about our beliefs about life and what it is meant for us to be good friends. He said that none of the things he had, nor all his money, meant more to him than the visits we had together and the friendship that we had developed over the years. 

A Lifelong Friendship

Roy is one of my very best friends. I have known Roy since we were at the university together. We were like brothers. When my car broke down, he would tell me to take his, he had another. Sometimes it would be for a week or more, but he never once mentioned any inconvenience. He wanted me to feel comfortable with his gift to me. 

When he was upset or required support I would listen to him, not interfering with his train of thought but getting what he was saying, and he would usually resolve whatever was bothering him. I never really understood how he did it, but he used my support thoroughly and he had the trust in our relationship to have it work for him

Over the years, when we disagreed, we trusted one another to discuss matters in a way that did not make the other wrong. We never meddled in each others’ affairs.  He and Anne did not like it when I went through a divorce because they also liked my wife.  But they accepted me for what I had done and did not allow it to interfere with our friendship. 

The Nightmare Returns

Now, years later, his cancer has returned, in his bone marrow. Today, I spent seven hours with him at the hospital. Anne was told Roy has about 7-8 weeks to live.

When the serious probing began, when the doctors had to insert what looked like stainless steel rods into his back, it pained and frightened me.  Of course they had given him an anesthetic, but still … I could feel the pain, even though he did not.  That evening I stayed up all night holding his hand. He would wake up and say “Is that you Bill? I'm scared.”  I would brush his forehead with my hand and let him know it was me, let him experience my love without words. He would calm down and go back to sleep. I would nod off myself only to be awakened by the nurses who do things at odd hours. Roy would still be holding my hand tightly.

When Roy had chemotherapy before, he lost his hair but the thing that bothered him most were problems remembering. One moment he would be lucid, ten minutes later he may not remember. When I insist that he can remember, he does, and we talk about old times and friends. We have a good time, he laughs and remembers.

My objective now is to keep his mind clear and available. He is experiencing my love through my behavior towards him. This evening the IV’s were not working, and I had to keep him calm. He grew anxious and held my hand until the doctors made the correct adjustments.

His life is too precious. I need to support him in any way possible so that he knows that he is truly loved for who he is. My commitment to Anne is that I will help her so she can take care of herself during these weeks. This evening, I insisted that she get her dinner and I would be pleased to stay. I fixed his dinner, even fed him. It's not that he can't feed himself; he won't eat all that is before him and like a child he needs that support. I insist that he do things for himself when he can. He does them out of trust and always feels better.

But Friendship Endures

The bond we have developed is one of deep respect. We are there for one another no matter what. We take nothing for granted. Our lives are limited; we really don't have that much time and we have to make the most of it, as creatively as possible, even when we are going through excruciating pain and sadness. 

Roy is Chinese. Once he retired, he was going to travel with his wife and at times with me. We were going to have the time of our lives! 

Now, we do not have that, but we do have our love and respect for each other. I know that if I were in his situation, he would do as I have done. I hope that in his knowing his worth, he and his system can do battle again and have another remission. I pray that he does, and I will do all that I can. The chances are not good, but I will certainly be there for him.