“How can I help?” is one of my favorite lines from Dr. Max Goodwin of the medical drama New Amsterdam. Now if you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know that I attribute this show and the character, Dr. Helen Sharpe, to educating me on breast health. I didn’t know that a mammogram result of dense breast tissue should alert you to follow up with your healthcare provider for an ultrasound. Thank God for my love of medical dramas because I am literally a medical professional if you ask me.
But this post is not about me diagnosing myself from a television screen.
This one is for anyone who wants to help.
Before you shoot that text or leave that voicemail saying “let me know what you need” I want to share with you how my Village showed up for me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed. Because here is the truth about people like me: firstborn, daughter, and wired to handle everything myself. I have a problem asking for help PERIODT! So if you are waiting for us to call you, we probably never will.
And I’ll tell you right now. Every text, every voicemail, every card that said, let me know what you need, went unanswered. Not because I wasn’t grateful. Because I was too exhausted to tell someone how to help me. I didn’t have the bandwidth to manage my own needs and then turn around and assign them to someone else.
Don’t ask! Just show up!
My family coordinated a weekly prayer call before I even knew it was happening. They pulled together family and friends, assigned people to lead, and only looped me in after the first surprise call was done to ask for my input going forward.
I didn’t know how much I needed that until it was already happening.
When people give you your flowers while you’re here to see and hear them, that is a different kind of love. There were always jokes about the length of prayers, scriptures quoted in full length, and stories shared after the prayer. My dad still holds the title for longest prayer, with my Aunt Marilyn coming in a close second.
Now let me say something about prayer specifically. Prayer is free. It only costs you commitment and intentionality. But if you’re going to pray over someone in this season, take the time to find out what they are believing God for. You want to be aligned with them, not in conflict with them. I made sure everyone around me knew exactly what I was declaring so we were all in agreement.
I wasn’t praying for remission. I was praying for a future where cancer never re-entered my body in any shape, form, or fashion. I was praying for the treatments to work. I was praying for 80-plus years of life with no reintroduction of cancer into my story. Remission implies cancer was there and left. What I was declaring was that it would never have a place in my life again. Make sure you know what your person is standing on before you open your mouth to pray over them.
Sherié went a step further and created shirts for the Village to wear throughout this journey. They said Team Shaemekia #BreastCancerWarrior. Whenever someone wanted to show up and show out for me, they put that shirt on. And those who had come into town to support me before my first chemo treatment came to the house to pray over me in person, shirts and all.
That is the picture you have seen. Yes, we look rough. I was preparing for chemotherapy.
From there, my Village took over everything I didn’t have the bandwidth to think about.
My family created a group calendar for every appointment, every chemo session, every radiation treatment, every surgery, every celebration. The Village had visibility into everything, and they moved as needed without me having to call a single person.
Sherié was authorized to schedule appointments on my behalf. Doctors didn’t call me or Demea for reminders or to book anything. They called Sherié. She managed it and updated the calendar accordingly.
Demea, Sherié, and my sister, Iteria, became the points of contact for our entire network. Nobody called me to ask about treatment updates. They either waited for the weekly prayer call where I gave my update, or they contacted their designated point of contact. Each of them managed a targeted group of family members and friends. They shared updates, good or bad, reminded people about prayer calls, and coordinated around surgeries and celebrations.
I got to just be.
I didn’t have to stress about work, kids, cooking, or communication. My people had already handled all of it.
The calendar also showed the Village where support was needed for the boys. Getting them to and from school, attending their sporting events, doctor appointments, and activities. When I started this fight, I didn’t want my sons to feel like their lives had changed because of my diagnosis. I wanted them to keep doing everything they were doing before. The Village made sure that happened.
My Village Moms, Alisha, Kim, Ryan, and Tameika, made sure all things boys was covered. Rides to and from practice, social outings, playdates, gift cards to their favorite restaurants; whatever was needed to make sure my boys’ lives felt as normal as possible. They didn’t ask what the boys needed. They just watched and filled the gaps.
When Demea had to travel for work, he would note the dates on the calendar, and the Village could see exactly where coverage was needed and step in without being asked. Demea’s family and Sherié took ownership of getting me to and from chemo and radiation on those days. My mother tried her hand at it, but baby, we were both frazzled, so we lovingly left her out of that equation.
I also remember LaShanda coming with me once and getting the full Real Housewives of Chemo experience firsthand. That was the day our little group decided to collectively interrogate the facility about whether we could be intimate with our partners and spouses during treatment, because every single one of us had been given a different answer depending on which staff member had done our onboarding for chemotherapy. We needed answers, and we needed them together. That is the kind of community that forms when you put a group of Black women going through the same thing in the same room long enough.
Now y’all know my Village was not just about calendars and phone calls.
My sister had already purchased the chemo shirt that allowed easy port access before I even thought about it. Sherié had soft, comfortable joggers ready. My mother Shelly came with every sleeper and pair of socks a girl could need.
They researched. They prepared. They showed up with the things.
Cassandra was out of state, but she is our resident firewoman, and she put that knowledge to work. She took ownership of my medical supplies. Gloves, alcohol pads, gauze, protective pads, waterproof shower shields; she kept me stocked and checked in routinely to find out what I was running low on before I even had to think about it. She found her lane, and she stayed in it faithfully.
They even created a cleaning schedule. Every Monday after chemo, someone from the Village would come to the house, wash and change the linen on our bed, clean our bathroom, and get my space ready for my return. After chemo, I would shower if I had the strength and get straight into a clean bed. I was done for that day and possibly several others depending on what my body was battling that week.
My sister and my mother took on juicing for me. They already knew what fruits and vegetables I liked, and they found recipes that would give me something that tasted sweet but was nutritious for my body during treatment. Every chemo week I had a fresh stash of juice waiting for me; something to give me nutrients when eating felt impossible.
My sister also purchased fake eyebrows, manicure and pedicure supplies, and items to help me embrace my baldness. She came over and did my nails herself because she knew that was a core part of how I took care of myself. When cancer starts taking things from your body, having someone show up and help you feel like yourself again is not a small thing.
That right there is EVERYTHING!
Now here is something nobody tells you.
There will be people in your life who love you deeply and have walked through hard seasons with you. And then there will be people who have lived exactly what you are living at exactly the same time as you.
Both matter. They are just different.
No one in my family or friend group had been through what I was going through. I loved them and I needed them. But there was something about my Real Housewives of Chemo Village that was its own kind of necessary. They understood the unsaid. They knew without me having to explain. They were in it too.
And listen, be okay with not being their person. That is okay too. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is make room for the Village they find along the way.
Now I want to talk about the people who showed up in the specific way they were positioned to show up. Because not everyone can be Sherié. Not everyone can be Iteria. But everyone has something to give, and the ones who figured out what that was and just did it; those are the ones I want to highlight.
Erica has a background in cancer research, and from the very beginning she became my cancer navigator. Test results I didn’t understand, questions I forgot to ask in the appointment, insight on medications and treatment plans; Erica was my translator for all of it. She made sure I knew what was happening in my own body and why. And I don’t even think she realizes how pivotal she was in this journey. To her, she was just showing up in the capacity she could. That is the Village operating at its highest level.
Jasmine was local, but her work schedule was no joke. She couldn’t always show up for me directly, but she showed up for my boys. When she had a window, she used it to make sure they were covered. That is somebody looking at a situation, being honest about what they could offer, and offering exactly that without apology.
And then there was Emi. Out of the country, couldn’t send Instacart, couldn’t sit with me in the chair. But she knew how she could help, and she did it without making it a moment. When she sent something, she had no expectation of gratitude. She already knew I was thankful. She just showed up in the way she could, and she did it consistently.
Every time it happened, I thanked God for it. The Lord always has a ram in the bush, and I would thank him profusely for using Emi to be mine during that season.
If you are not local, not even in the same country, that doesn’t mean you can’t show up. Send what you can when you can. You don’t have to make a big deal of it. They won’t either. But know that it is felt and it is appreciated more than you could ever know.
Now, before I get to this list, I need to say something. This is not an inclusive list of every person in my Village who showed up for me. There are family members and friends who were consistent with check-ins, encouraging texts, supportive calls, and words that carried me when I needed them most. I am immensely thankful for every single one of them. I just can’t name everyone in one blog post, so I called out a few whose stories speak directly to the ways you can show up on this list. If you showed up for me during this season and you don’t see your name, please know that you are seen, you are appreciated, and I carry what you gave me with me every single day.
Somebody reading this right now is standing next to someone who needs exactly this, and they are sitting there asking, “How can I help?” and not knowing what to do with themselves.
So here is your starting point. Don’t ask if they need help. Don’t tell them to call you when they need something. See the need and fill it.
Pray over them and be intentional about it. Find out what they are believing God for and get aligned with them before you open your mouth. Prayer is free. It only costs you commitment.
Start a weekly prayer call and make it consistent.
Build a group calendar and give the core village access to everything.
Designate points of contact so the patient isn’t fielding every update and question.
Authorize someone to manage appointments on their behalf.
Research and provide what they need for each phase: port access shirts, chemo snacks, soft clothing, cleaning supplies.
Set up a cleaning rotation so their space is always ready when they get home from treatment.
Bring fresh juice during chemo weeks; find out what they like and don’t overdo it since juice is only good for a few days.
Show up for their kids and keep their life as normal as possible; rides, outings, playdates, gift cards to their favorite spots, whatever keeps their world feeling normal.
Cover transportation to and from treatment, especially when the primary caregiver has to travel.
Be their glam support; nails, eyebrows, lashes, wigs, whatever helps them feel like themselves.
If you have a medical or research background, become their navigator. Help them understand their results, their medications, and their treatment plan. Knowledge is one of the most powerful things you can give someone in this season.
Use a shared task app like Reminders so needs can be posted and claimed without anyone having to ask out loud.
Find your lane. Figure out what you can actually give and give that faithfully. Cassandra gave medical supplies. Jasmine gave time for the boys. Erica gave knowledge. Emi sent what she could from across the world. None of them asked if it was enough. They just did it.
Send financial support when you can without making them ask for it.
Now tell me. If you have walked alongside someone with a breast cancer diagnosis, how did you show up? Did you do something I didn’t mention here? Are there suggestions on this list you will carry forward?
Tap in and talk to me.
And if this post helped you, share it with someone who needs it.
