What to Give Someone With Cancer: Skip Fuzzy Socks, Give Practical Help Instead

Ellen T. Meiser, University of Hawaii at Hilo The season of gifting is in full swing – a time when people scour the internet and shops of all kinds for items that appropriately symbolize their relationships with their loved ones. Gift givers hope that their gift will appropriately communicate their feelings and bring the recipient joy. But that’s not always the reality. Gifts can be tricky and rife with hidden hazards. Relationships can even be ruined when the mismatch between the giver’s intention and the recipient’s perceptions of it is too vast. The circumstances of the people involved also shape a gift’s meaning and the way it might be interpreted. My research partner, Nathalie Rita, and I have been seeking to better understand gifting in one of life’s most dicey, distressing circumstances: cancer. As sociologists, we use techniques such as in-depth interviews to study the experiences, feelings and motivations of specific groups of people. I focus on restaurant workers and my colleague on migrants and minorities. But in 2021, we were both diagnosed with cancer in our early 30s – breast cancer for me and endometrial cancer for her. This encouraged us to explore the experiences of other young women dealing with cancer. By 2023, we had interviewed 50 millennial women diagnosed with cancer about a plethora of social and emotional topics related to their illness. Our own bouts with cancer revealed curious patterns in the gifts we very gratefully received from family and friends. So, we included a few questions about gifts in our research. We expected some eccentric anecdotes similar to our own experiences. But our research, which isn’t yet published, revealed just how much of a mismatch there is between what people wanted and what they received – often driven by the marketing of specific gifts or care packages for cancer patients.

What loved ones give

One of our first questions was, what exactly do women diagnosed with cancer receive from their loved ones? Their answers ran the gamut. Our interviewees reported hundreds of gifts, from stuffed possums to child care help to Vitamix blenders. Friends and family were very eager to shower them in goods. But from these hundreds of items and acts, 10 popped up over and over again. In order of frequency, they were:

1. Fuzzy socks.
2. Food and drinks, particularly herbal teas, groceries, gourmet goodies and Meal Trains.
3. Money, GoFundMe donations and gift cards.
4. Blankets.
5. Fancy, spa-style self-care items.
6. Written thoughts and prayers.
7. Flowers and plants.
8. Mugs, tumblers and bottles.
9. Adult coloring books.
10. Books.

The women we spoke with largely understood and appreciated the intentions behind these items in the context of their illness: books to distract, flowers to beautify. They viewed the gifts as material proof that their loved ones wanted to deliver comfort and support in a time of discomfort and helplessness. But the frequency of certain items perplexed us. Why socks and coloring books instead of, say, Rollerblades and bongs?

The long shadow of online commerce and gift guides

We traced these gifting trends to two sources: premade cancer care packages and online gift guides. Numerous women reported receiving some of the items from our top 10 list in premade care packages sourced from Etsy, Amazon or cancer-specific companies such as Rock the Treatment and The Balm Box. They noted that the contents of these packages felt predictable: spa-style self-care goods such as aromatherapy oils, lip balms and soy candles; herbal teas; a mug with a slogan or ribbon; and hard candies or throat lozenges. Some received more opulent care packages, similar to Rock the Treatment’s large chemo care package for women, which adds adult coloring books, protein-rich snacks, a beanie and fuzzy socks. These additions mirror our interviewees’ top 10 received gifts even more closely. Online gift guides published by magazines, news sites and stores may be influencing gifters’ behaviors, too. A Google search for “gift guide” yields countless lists for niche demographics – chicken lovers, mathematicians, even people who are always cold. Online viewership of these lists is prolific. For example, New York Magazine’s product recommendation site, The Strategist, received 10.7 million monthly views in 2021. The top seven Google-ranked gift guides for cancer patients also contain suggestions that align almost perfectly with what our interviewees reported, with the addition of clothing and jewelry emblazoned with inspirational declarations such as “I’m stronger than cancer!” These overlaps reflect the broader phenomena of the commodification and commercialization of cancer. As businesses seek to extract economic value out of all aspects of daily life, cancer has become a lucrative business opportunity and patients a source of profit. Our research suggests that these market forces warp how gift givers perceive people with cancer and their desires. In turning cancer into something profitable, the ugly parts of illness are also glossed over to make cancer palatable to the market. Businesses then sell would-be gifters the idea that cancer can be assuaged by purchasing and giving a bejeweled, teal-ribboned Stanley tumbler. Additionally, while premade care packages ease the labor of decision-making for gifters, they run a greater risk of disappointing recipients. These generic boxes, we found, can communicate a degree of thoughtlessness at a time when our study participants were aching for thoughtfulness.

What to actually gift

So, what do women going through cancer treatment actually want to receive? Our interviewees recommended:

1. Money in the form of cash or useful gift cards, such as for Door Dash, grocery stores and Petco.
2. Meals and groceries, particularly if the recipient is a parent with mouths to feed.
3. Help with errands and tasks such as babysitting, transportation, cleaning and lawn care.
4. Cards and personal messages of love, which serve as check-ins and gestures of care and support.
5. Practical self-care items such as thick lotions, face masks and soft soaps that don’t irritate skin.

Pragmatic. Simple. Even a little mundane. There is some overlap between these recommendations and the frequently received gifts mentioned earlier. But notably, almost none of the women we interviewed expressed a desire for the nonessential items usually stocked in commercial care packages or those associated with profiting from cancer. Instead, the gifts they felt touched them more deeply were ones that addressed ways in which they felt the disease incapacitated their abilities as a worker, woman, mother or caregiver. Our interviewees spoke of financial strain from medical bills, fatigue preventing them from mothering in ways they used to, and mounting burdens that made it almost impossible to be present for partners or spouses. A monstera plant in a whimsical vase offered little reprieve from these pressures. However, a chat while folding laundry or a Pyrex of enchiladas did. Perhaps most importantly, such offerings made them feel cared for and seen – their unvarnished circumstances recognized. So, if a friend with cancer – or any other serious illness, for that matter – is on your list this holiday season, consider hanging those fuzzy socks back on the rack. Instead, mull over their daily stresses, and choose an item – or a task – that provides a bit of relief. Ellen T. Meiser, Assistant Professor of Sociology, University of Hawaii at Hilo This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Writing builds resilience by changing your brain, helping you face everyday challenges

Emily Ronay Johnston, University of California, Merced Ordinary and universal, the act of writing changes the brain. From dashing off a heated text message to composing an op-ed, writing allows you to, at once, name your pain and create distance from it. Writing can shift your mental state from overwhelm and despair to grounded clarity — a shift that reflects resilience. Psychology, the media and the wellness industry shape public perceptions of resilience: Social scientists study it, journalists celebrate it, and wellness brands sell it. They all tell a similar story: Resilience is an individual quality that people can strengthen with effort. The American Psychological Association defines resilience as an ongoing process of personal growth through life’s challenges. News headlines routinely praise individuals who refuse to give up or find silver linings in times of hardship. The wellness industry promotes relentless self-improvement as the path to resilience. In my work as a professor of writing studies, I research how people use writing to navigate trauma and practice resilience. I have witnessed thousands of students turn to the written word to work through emotions and find a sense of belonging. Their writing habits suggest that writing fosters resilience. Insights from psychology and neuroscience can help explain how.

Writing rewires the brain

In the 1980s, psychologist James Pennebaker developed a therapeutic technique called expressive writing to help patients process trauma and psychological challenges. With this technique, continuously journaling about something painful helps create mental distance from the experience and eases its cognitive load. In other words, externalizing emotional distress through writing fosters safety. Expressive writing turns pain into a metaphorical book on a shelf, ready to be reopened with intention. It signals the brain, “You don’t need to carry this anymore.”

Translating emotions and thoughts into words on paper is a complex mental task. It involves retrieving memories and planning what to do with them, engaging brain areas associated with memory and decision-making. It also involves putting those memories into language, activating the brain’s visual and motor systems. Writing things down supports memory consolidation — the brain’s conversion of short-term memories into long-term ones. The process of integration makes it possible for people to reframe painful experiences and manage their emotions. In essence, writing can help free the mind to be in the here and now.

Taking action through writing

The state of presence that writing can elicit is not just an abstract feeling; it reflects complex activity in the nervous system. Brain imaging studies show that putting feelings into words helps regulate emotions. Labeling emotions — whether through expletives and emojis or carefully chosen words — has multiple benefits. It calms the amygdala, a cluster of neurons that detects threat and triggers the fear response: fight, flight, freeze or fawn. It also engages the prefrontal cortex, a part of the brain that supports goal-setting and problem-solving. In other words, the simple act of naming your emotions can help you shift from reaction to response. Instead of identifying with your feelings and mistaking them for facts, writing can help you simply become aware of what’s arising and prepare for deliberate action. Even mundane writing tasks like making a to-do list stimulate parts of the brain involved in reasoning and decision-making, helping you regain focus.

Making meaning through writing

Choosing to write is also choosing to make meaning. Studies suggest that having a sense of agency is both a prerequisite for, and an outcome of, writing. Researchers have long documented how writing is a cognitive activity — one that people use to communicate, yes, but also to understand the human experience. As many in the field of writing studies recognize, writing is a form of thinking — a practice that people never stop learning. With that, writing has the potential to continually reshape the mind. Writing not only expresses but actively creates identity. Writing also regulates your psychological state. And the words you write are themselves proof of regulation — the evidence of resilience. Popular coverage of human resilience often presents it as extraordinary endurance. News coverage of natural disasters implies that the more severe the trauma, the greater the personal growth. Pop psychology often equates resilience with unwavering optimism. Such representations can obscure ordinary forms of adaptation. Strategies people already use to cope with everyday life — from rage-texting to drafting a resignation letter — signify transformation.

Building resilience through writing

These research-backed tips can help you develop a writing practice conducive to resilience: 1. Write by hand whenever possible. In contrast to typing or tapping on a device, handwriting requires greater cognitive coordination. It slows your thinking, allowing you to process information, form connections and make meaning. 2. Write daily. Start small and make it regular. Even jotting brief notes about your day — what happened, what you’re feeling, what you’re planning or intending — can help you get thoughts out of your head and ease rumination. 3. Write before reacting. When strong feelings surge, write them down first. Keep a notebook within reach and make it a habit to write it before you say it. Doing so can support reflective thinking, helping you act with purpose and clarity. 4. Write a letter you never send. Don’t just write down your feelings — address them to the person or situation that’s troubling you. Even writing a letter to yourself can provide a safe space for release without the pressure of someone else’s reaction. 5. Treat writing as a process. Any time you draft something and ask for feedback on it, you practice stepping back to consider alternative perspectives. Applying that feedback through revision can strengthen self-awareness and build confidence. Resilience may be as ordinary as the journal entries people scribble, the emails they exchange, the task lists they create — even the essays students pound out for professors. The act of writing is adaptation in progress. Emily Ronay Johnston, Assistant Teaching Professor of Global Arts, Media and Writing Studies, University of California, Merced This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.