Is there anything I can do?

I don’t know.
Is there anything you can do?

It’s a smart-alecky scene from an iconic movie franchise, and worth the minute.

It’s not a perfect match, but this scene crossed my mind when a friend sent a link to a cogent gut-punch of an article on helping the “co-survivor of a cardiac arrest”, as the author describes herself. The article starts this way:

“Let me know if you need anything.”

A moment of brutal honesty: I grew to despise that phrase over the course of Will’s cancers and after his sudden cardiac arrest.

Is there anything I can do? Let me know if you need anything. And just like that, the burden shifts from the wannabe giver to the receiver.

The whole article is worth reading, but here’s the nub of it:

Figuring out where to direct someone [who wants to help] is a task in itself, especially if it involves giving specific instructions and details. Responding to “how do I do that?” texts or calls can run you ragged. There’s a level of cognitive dissonance that leaves some co-survivors feeling guilty for being overwhelmed by someone’s attempt to help them.

But you care. You want to help. How do you take action that meets your intention? In my experience, here’s what actually helps: stop asking people to identify what they need. Instead, identify what you can do, and do it.

All, of course, while respecting the helpee’s own agency and boundaries.

Is she right? Oh, yes, I’d say so. What’s that thing we do on social media these days? 100%

Is it easy? Oh, no.

I could tell stories about offers of help that made actual work for me; or offers that required mental effort from me on a day when I had none to spare, which pretty much describes all the early days; or support that missed the mark in other ways. But I won’t. Everyone meant well and I (mostly) appreciated the impulses even if not always the execution. Besides, my saintliness wasn’t tested hard: our crisis was of blessedly short duration.

I’d rather tell of the Big Guy’s family members who flew in, immediately and unasked, and quietly carried some of the load during the critical first week, while keeping their own family groups in the loop so I didn’t have to.

Or my siblings who made open-ended and entirely genuine offers to come, from points ranging from Vancouver to Cleveland to Ireland.

Or the in-town friends who accepted their assigned role of information nodes for specific groups of long-time friends/golf buddies/former colleagues/former military cohort, thereby offloading me from fielding questions all day, every day.

Or the book that arrived unannounced on my porch from an old friend via Amazon: a book on a subject of interest to me (history with people matters), written in short, snappy, stand-alone chapters that didn’t require any sustained focus. Read, enjoy, forget. Amazing.

Or the flowering plant that arrived unannounced on my doorstep.

Or the groceries that appeared in my kitchen. These weren’t unannounced as such: I had emailed a list to a neighbour and friend who had helped in a similar way during our Covid quarantine (history with people matters).

Or the one-meal quantity of soup and homemade bread, and the three disposable containers (tin foil pans, cardboard lids; no need to arrange for return) of homemade mac ‘n’ cheese (easy to freeze and reheat in their containers) that also appeared in my kitchen from neighbours.

Or the texts and emails from extended family and friends that made it clear they weren’t asking for an update or, indeed, a response of any kind.

All of which is pretty amazing, when you pile it up and look at it.

I think the best points the blog post makes are two:

• Offer specifically and be prepared to hear and accept a No thank you
• Work within the bounds of your relationship

If you don’t really have a relationship — if all you have is a normal and entirely admirable human concern — then email or mail-mail (don’t call) to say you’re thinking of them and that no response is needed. In my experience, these limited contacts that required nothing from me were always good, always welcome.

Is the crisis turning into a long haul? Do you still want to help? If you have a relationship with someone who *is* close to the action, identify how you can funnel your help through them, or how you can offload them of some of their non-support work, or just reach out to let them know you care about them.

Just thinking about you.
No need to respond.

Helpers need help too, sometimes.