Global Courant 2023-04-19 21:11:25
My grandfather died when I was in high school. I remember getting kicked out of class early and going to my grandparents’ house with my family and cousins, where dinner started arriving within hours.
A lot of it.
Chicken pies, cookies, bowls of macaroni – you name it – all arrive wrapped in aluminum foil and placed on the dining table.
And for some reason I clearly remember someone bringing… chicken wings?
They sat on a ceramic plate on the dining room table all afternoon. When it was dinner time, the debate among the adults was, “We can order pizza, but we shouldn’t waste all this food…”
In my 12-year-old mind, all I could think was, “Please don’t make me eat the chicken wings.”
Decades later, one of my best friends unexpectedly lost his mother. A similar afternoon unfolded, and as people began to flock to his childhood home in the town we grew up in, I did what we all do when the people we love are in sudden pain.
I brought food.
A buffalo chicken calzone to be exact – a choice that rivals the weirdness of chicken wings. Why?
To feed people is to cherish them. And when the rug is pulled out from under someone you love very much, there’s very little you can do to ease their pain. So we come up with chicken wings and buffalo chicken calzones.
When I was diagnosed stage 3 breast cancer three years later I wanted nothing to do with it.
Within days of my diagnosisthe questions about who was in charge of my meal train began to come, as did offers from many of the generous people in our lives to take things off our plates and cook food to put on them. As someone who is used to being in charge, those closest to me reminded me to accept the help.
But I didn’t want it.
What I really wanted, more than ever, was to build a cocoon in my house and swat people away from it.
Overnight, I went from a busy, full-time techie to a cancer patient. While that may sound like an incredible loss of identity to many, to me it was the evolution of a new one: a mother home with her family. I knew my days of feeling well enough to do things like cook dinner were numbered, but until I started chemotherapy, that’s exactly what I wanted to do—and no one was going to take that away from me with their chicken wings.
Story continues
I searched for words that didn’t sound ungrateful as the generous offers kept pouring in and as I kept swatting them away. One day a good friend asked me a question that struck me differently: “I am not bringing you food. What do you actually want?”
I realized no one had asked me that question. I hadn’t even considered what I wanted.
“Honestly,” I said. “I want you to take me for a walk on the beach.”
Julie Devaney Hogan, left. (Courtesy of Julie Devaney Hogan)
After that, I kept thinking about the power of her question. I didn’t want to keep rejecting the love and generosity of our family, friends and neighbors – I just didn’t want it to come in the form of food.
I sat down and poured on paper what my family and I really needed from people.
I converted the list into a document called “How to Help the Hogans,” and sent it to our family and friends, and posted it on my social media accounts. This is what we asked for:
What we need
Support our children
Our number 1 priority, aside from beating cancer, is to protect our children from the fear and uncertainty associated with this diagnosis. With that, this is the language we use to talk to the kids about my cancer. We ask everyone in our lives to watch these slides and use the same language. The tone in our house is “Mommy is healing”, not “Mommy is sick”, and we talk about the cancer as “Barb” and the treatment as “Margot”. Thank you for adopting this mindset too!
Friends for beach walks
My goal is to stay as active as possible on the good days and head to the local beaches/trails for walks (and give Dave a break from looking after me!). Letting me out is a huge way you can help us. Once I have completed my chemo schedule I will have a link with blocked times to sign up here if you want to meet up! Send me a text or DM in the meantime.
Positive Energy & Music
Dave and I strongly believe in the power of positive energy and intention. Our mantras were “She will survive and thrive” and “She will be cancer free!” If you’re looking for a way to help us, we really appreciate you putting a positive thought out into the universe for us, however you choose. Music also helps us through this. We have a playlist that we listened to during my first treatment and also use it for workouts. Please add it to this playlist here if you have songs to help us stay strong, positive and motivated.
It also helped to see friends and family added to our playlist. (Courtesy of Julie Devaney Hogan)
Equally important were the things we didn’t want and why.
Writing what we didn’t want was an incredibly useful exercise. It gave us the opportunity to express our gratitude to the wonderful people who wanted to help us, while at the same time sharing our honesty about what wouldn’t help us.
Many of my conversations from that time were much like any SNL skit parody of Boston folks: “My friend’s mother’s cousin’s best friend had breast cancer. You should talk to her!
Julie Devaney Hogan, right. (Courtesy of Julie Devaney Hogan)
In the first few weeks after diagnosis, I took every introduction. But it was overwhelming. I learned so much more about my own journey. I had to sit in it and get ready to face it. I really struggled with this and questioned my own humility and ego. You have no idea what you’re doing here – shouldn’t you be listening to other people? I wasn’t ready and it was OK to say no to the intros.
I didn’t need rides either. So many well-meaning people who loved us offered to take me to treatment, but my husband, Dave, and I didn’t want to be apart. Here’s exactly what we shared about what we didn’t need:
What we do NOT need
Food
Cooking for and feeding people is something Dave and I enjoy doing together, and we have a very special routine around feeding our family that is important for us to continue. Personally, feeding my kids gives me a ton of purpose. Things may change, but we are not planning a meal train from now on. Thanks for respecting this.
Introductions
We are grateful for all the reach we have received with introductions from people who have bravely gone through cancer journeys. We are still in the early stages of our own journey, taking these first steps of treatment. When we’re ready to talk and learn from others, trust us, we’ll ask! We’re not there yet. Thank you for your understanding.
Rides
If you’ve known us for a long time, you know that Dave and I are a team. We plan to tackle all my treatments together. We are beyond grateful for people who have volunteered to take me with them, but this will be something Dave and I do together each week. We are also fortunate to have a rotating schedule of childcare with our mothers. If we need help with the kids on treatment day, we’ll ask! That being said, we are SUPER thankful for people who volunteer to spend time with our kids as I won’t be as available and Dave will have his hands full. Playdates, trips to the playground, baking cookies – don’t hesitate to get in touch if you’re open to scooping them (or just one of them!) up to do something fun!
As much as people love to care for others in times of need, people also love direction. As soon as I shared this document I started getting EXACTLY what I needed. And for the first time since my diagnosis, I felt in control of my life again.
Julie Devaney Hogan, right. (Courtesy of Julie Devaney Hogan)
I still have a long road ahead of me as I tackle radiation, ongoing chemo, reconstruction surgery, and many more unknowns.
I also have a lot to look forward to as I catch up with friends on walks on the beach, cook new meals with my family and watch new songs pop up on my Buzz off Barb playlist during treatment.
I am beyond grateful for how the people I love continue to appear before me.
Please don’t show up with chicken wings.
This article was originally published on TODAY. com
