What I Want People to Know About Asking "How Is He Doing?"

If you know a family with a child in cancer treatment, you have probably asked some version of this question. "How is he doing?" "How is she doing?" "How are they?" "How is your son?"

It is a loving question. It comes from the right place. Almost every person who asks me this question is asking because they care about my family and want to know how we are.

I want to tell you, very gently, what this question feels like to answer. And what you could ask instead, if you would like.

What we hear when you ask

When someone asks me "how is he doing?" my brain does a small sorting exercise that I have done so many times in the last four years that it now happens automatically.

I think about the day my son is having. Is he having a steroid week, where his mood is up and down and his appetite is enormous? Is he having a fatigue stretch, where he is sleeping more than usual? Is he in clinic this week or off this week? Did his counts come back okay on Friday? Are we waiting on results? Has he had a fever lately? Is his appetite good? Is he himself today?

Then I think about what version of the answer to give you. The short version. The medium version. The actual answer. The version I give my mother. The version I give a friend who has been close to this for years. The version I give a neighbor who has not asked in six months. The version I give the cashier at the grocery store. The version I would give if I were not so tired.

Then I take a breath and I say, "He is good. Thank you for asking."

Sometimes that is the truest answer. Sometimes it is the easiest answer because the longer answer would require more energy than I have at the moment.

Why I want you to know this

I am not writing this to make anyone feel bad for asking. Please keep asking. The fact that people in our community are still asking, four years in, is one of the things that makes me feel less alone.

I am writing this so the people who love us know what the question feels like on the other end. And so the next time you are about to ask, you have a few options.

Questions that land more softly

"What kind of week are you having?"

Cancer families experience time in weeks, not in general states. A clinic week is different from an off week. A scan week is different from a normal week. "What kind of week" gives me a way to give you a specific honest answer without sorting through four years of medical history.

"How are YOU doing?"

Sometimes the kindest thing a person can ask a cancer mom is about her, not about her child. The child has a whole medical team asking. The mom usually does not. "How are you doing?" with the emphasis on the you, is a gift.

"Is there a moment this week where you felt like a person?"

This is one of my favorite questions. Cancer families often go weeks without a moment of just being people. A friend who asks about a moment, not about the diagnosis, gives us a way to remember we are still in there.

"Can I sit with you for a while?"

Not advice. Not questions. Not updates. Sometimes a cancer mom just needs another person to be in the room. "Can I come over for a coffee?" is a love language.

Nothing at all

Sometimes the kindest text is the one with no question in it. "Thinking of your family today. I love you all. No need to reply." That sentence lands every time.

What I want you to keep doing

Please keep asking. Please keep showing up. Please keep texting. The version of "how is he doing?" that comes from love is one of the small consistent kindnesses that has kept our family afloat for years.

If you read this and you are now worried about what to say, here is the easy version: keep being you. The fact that you care is the whole thing. The words are mostly the wrapping paper.

A note for cancer moms reading this

If you are a cancer mom and the "how is he doing?" question wears you out some days, you are not alone. You are not being ungrateful. You are responding to a small but real demand that happens dozens of times a week.

You are allowed to answer however you want. The short answer is enough. So is the long one. So is, "Today is hard. Thank you for asking."

If you want to share this post with someone in your life who has been asking and you want to give them a gentler entry point, please do. The person on the other end of this question is doing their best. So are you.

Dina
Mom of Max | Founder, Maxwell’s Toy Shoppe
Childhood Cancer Advocate 💛

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A Note for the Cancer Dad