My Friend was Diagnosed with Cancer and I Ignored Her

After Christmas I learned second-hand that an old school friend has cancer again. An optician first suspected a brain tumour during our first year at uni because her vision was blurred; she dropped out to receive treatment and wasn’t allowed to drive a car even when she recovered.

I went to send a message of condolence, but I was ashamed. I had made a vague effort when she was sick, but over the years it gradually petered out. I didn’t know what to say because we weren’t equal any more; she had looked death in the face and kicked its arse, whilst I was playing hide and seek in the dark with knives in Liverpool. Was it wrong to only make an effort when you were at risk of losing someone?

I’m the kind of person who lets friends come to me, otherwise they’re forgotten. I assume everybody knows I care – no need to shout it from the rooftops.  It didn’t quite click in my mind that relationships are a two-way street; maybe the reason people weren’t asking me to hang out was because I wasn’t asking them. So, I decided that in 2016 I wouldn’t take friends for granted.

I wrote a list of every single person I consider a friend or potential friend. It’s going up on the wall, and when I’m bored (or preferably just out of the goodness of my heart) I’ll mail my pal Matt who I met in Thailand because I’m still in awe of ginger Aussies, or tell Alex from college how jellyfish surviving 500 million years without brains gives me enormous hope for him.

I was going to leave flowers on the doorstep, but grew some balls and asked if she was in – and I’m so glad I did. It would have been incredibly stupid to let pride get in the way whilst I had a chance to redeem myself. I’m sorry for being self-centered, and for expressing guilt through my own blog post.

One NYE a couple of years ago, my pal said whilst watching fireworks in the town square, ‘I’m just happy to still be here’. This year I’ll make sure my friends know I’m happy they’re still here.

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