Thoughts On Reaching Out

Tuesdays are one of Michael’s long treatment days at Queen Mary Hospital. I’ve found a small air conditioned nook at the medical school across the street. I’ve got Wi-Fi and a sweet sea view to write for a few hours while Michael is in a room getting a slow drip IV, no space for visitors. In my ongoing quest to find something to do on these long days which doesn’t involve spending money or big crowds, this is a decent solution. No food here though… you need a student ID to grab something from the cafe. Next time I’ll pack more than my baggie of crackers.

This last week brought both Hong Kong Disneyland’s 20th Anniversary and The Justice Conference Asia, two events with little obvious crossover except for one thing: long time friends flying in for one or the other. Any other year we’d have filled our calendar with meetups every single day, thrilled to catch up with wonderful friends who live in other countries. But 2025 feels like a perpetual opposite day. Events on the calendar which aren’t hospital or doctor visits have felt like mere suggestions which we won’t be attending. Most of the time Michael and his health are an all consuming beast, but on good days when we aren’t frantically treading water in the deep end and can momentarily just float and look around, it stings to miss out on so much. To be sidelined, on pause, for an indeterminate amount of time is beyond uncomfortable.

A couple months after Michael’s diagnosis when long-planned, much-committed-to, wouldn’t-miss-it-for-the-world events snuck up then flew past without us in attendance, I felt ashamed when I realized no one can consistently rely on me for anything anymore. As someone who lives hard by the idea of letting my yes mean yes and my no mean no, I found myself not being able to clear even the lowest hurdles of mailing a birthday card I’d already written, responding to a text message, or making a phone call. Meetings in real life? Forget it. I had to cancel nine times out of ten.

When I shared with a dear friend how miserable it was to feel undependable, untrustworthy, she immediately reframed it. Instead of being tempted to think I’m unreliable, try saying, Right now my priority is Michael. Because every time he or our kids needed me, I was fully available, completely accessible. This wasn’t mailing a birthday card, it was straddling the line between life and death with the person I love most in the world. It was a huge paradigm shift. I’m so grateful for my friend’s wisdom because she reminded me to shrug off the guilt of not showing up in the ways I would never, ever miss under other circumstances.

I expected this week of much-missed friends in town for events to feel hard. I considered avoiding all social media so I wouldn’t see everything I wasn’t going to be a part of. But several friends reached out to see if there was any slight possibility of meeting up. I loved that so much! I didn’t see everyone I would have loved to hug, and it doesn’t make any sense when I look back over this extremely busy week with multiple moving parts, but somehow every person who sent me a message asking if we could get together got a yes.

It was all very brief instead of hours and hours like I would have preferred, but I got to see several friends I have seen in years, some since 2019! The common factor which made every meet up possible was their willingness to meet at a place easiest for me, allowing me to stay close to home and Michael. It also gave me more time to spend with them, less time traveling to them. I had to reschedule a couple times with one of them, but they gave me plenty of options to make sure it happened. One friend was even willing to meet me just to do my grocery shopping, a task I was dreading! How genuinely cool is that?

Each person who reached out said a variation of the same thing: I was hesitant to ask because I didn’t want to burden you, I didn’t want you to feel bad if you couldn’t make it, I wanted to give you space, surely you’ve got enough on your hands.

This got me thinking. Is this how most of you feel when someone you know is struggling?

I don’t speak for every person going through something devastating, but a common theme I’ve heard echoed among people who have had the rug ripped out from beneath them is how relieved they are to be remembered by those still standing on steady ground. Yes, it’s true, Michael and I will continue to miss out on so much more than we’ll get to do, possibly for years (plural) to come. It’s difficult to fully grasp how there will be weddings and funerals and celebrations for new babies, new jobs, new homes — and they will all happen without us. But knowing we are still welcome, still invited, not forgotten despite our continued absence, is an extraordinarily precious gift which I wanted to highlight here.

I’m curious, as I sit watching the clouds roll by, if you have someone else in your life who has recently gone through something especially rough. Or if there’s someone who seems to have dropped out of your circle, not showing up in places you’re used to seeing them. Maybe your impulse is to give them space, even if they didn’t specifically ask for it. Can I encourage you to gather up some pluck, lean in, and reach out? A quick message saying no need to respond but please know I’m thinking of you right now may completely change the trajectory of a tough situation in ways you might not understand unless (God forbid) it happens to you. Don’t overthink it. In my extensive experience with this, simple and now is always better than elaborate and never. I’d love to believe there may be a little less struggle out there today, and that you had something to do with it.

Michael is almost done with his IV treatment. I’m going to head back over to collect him so we can go home and wait for the super typhoon heading our way. We live in a high rise concrete building, have lots of supplies, and everyone in the family will be home by tonight. We’ve done all we can to prepare. I do worry about others who live in low lying areas or are more exposed, and our neighbors in the Philippines who continue to be battered with wind, rain, and flooding. CNN is saying it’s the “strongest on earth this year.” 2025 continues to be a lot. Stay safe, local friends!