Everyone Dies (Every1Dies)

Supporting Someone with Chronic Illness: How to Show Up Without Fixing

Dr. Marianne Matzo, FAAN and Charlie Navarrette Season 6 Episode 46

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0:00 | 28:08

When someone we care about is living with chronic illness, we often want to help, but we are often unsure of how. We may worry about saying the wrong thing, doing too much, or not doing enough. And in that uncertainty, support can sometimes turn into advice, reassurance, or attempts to fix.

Learn what it means to show up without fixing. We will explore what meaningful support can look like for people living with chronic illnesses, support rooted in listening, respect, and consistency rather than solutions. This conversation is for anyone who wants to show up and care, even when there are no easy answers. Show Notes and Resources: https://bit.ly/3Mxexo5

#ChronicIllnessSupport #ShowingUp #ChronicIllness #Caregiving #EveryoneDiesPodcast #SupportSystem #detroitstyle #SupportWithoutFixing #SeriousIllness #SpoonTheory

In this Episode:

  • 00:00 - Intro, Showing Up Without "Fixing"
  • 02:14 - What's Your Favorite Chocolate? From classic name brands to boutique NYC confectionaries
  • 06:46 - An Eastside Legend: The $5,000 helicopter "money drop" in Detroit
  • 08:18 - Recipe of the Week: Detroit-Style Pizza Dip
  • 09:27 - How to Help a Friend with Chronic Illness: Support, Listening & Oreos
  • 18:34 - Discussion: What Experiences Have You Had Supporting Someone with Chronic Illness?
  • 23:51 - Excerpt from "Grief is Like Glitter" by Erin Hanson
  • 26:25 - Outro

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Hello and welcome to Everyone Dies, a podcast focused on public education about serious illness, dying, death, and bereavement. Because even though everyone dies, no one has to face it unprepared. When someone we care about is living with chronic illness, we often want to help, but often are unsure how.


We may worry about saying the wrong thing, doing too much, or not doing enough. And in that uncertainty, support can sometimes turn into advice, reassurance, or attempts to fix what cannot. In this episode, we're talking about what it means to show up without fixing.


We will explore what meaningful support could look like for people living with chronic illnesses. Support rooted in listening, respect, and consistency, rather than solutions. This conversation is for anyone who wants to show up and care, even when there are no easy answers.


So relax, and thank you for joining us today. I'm Marianne Matzo, a nurse practitioner, and I use my experience from working as a nurse for 47 years to help answer your questions about what happens at the end of life. And I'm Charlie Navarrette, an actor in New York City, and here to offer an every person viewpoint to our podcast.


We're both here because we believe that the more you know, the better prepared you will be to make tough decisions when a crisis hits. And remember, this podcast does not provide medical nor legal advice. Please listen to the complete disclosure at the end of the recording.


In the first half, Charlie reports on a Detroit man's final wish for his community and has our recipe of the week. In the second half, we're exploring ways to support the people in our lives who are living with chronic illnesses. And we'd like to thank Shauna Freedman for her contributions to this podcast.


In the third half, Charlie has a poem about grief. So happy Valentine's Day, Charles! Thank you, thank you very much. You know, I know most people go for Valentine's Day, you know, the 14th.


I always look forward to the 15th. Why? Chocolates are half off. Yes.


But of course, if they're the fancy chocolates, no, they ain't half off. So, there you are. See, I'm a simple Russell Stover kind of girl.


Russell Stover. I haven't had that in, oh, about a few months ago. But before a few months ago, it was a much, much longer time.


Yes. We used to have, down the street from where my girls went to grade school, there used to be a Russell Stover outlet store. And they would have, like, cases of the hollow chocolate Santas.


Really cheap. Yeah, okay. And I would buy those, and we had, like, a mud room, and in there was the pantry.


And I would put them on the pantry, and so, you know, you go in and out of the house there, and their friends would go in and out of the house there. And they would, you know, it was, all their friends knew that they could eat whatever they wanted, and they especially look forward to the chocolate Santas. So all year long, we would have a box of chocolate Santas sitting there, and they would, there's Santas, and they would, you know, grab them and eat them.


So, and then I was, of course, in on that, too, because as I said, I do love their chocolate. Not too sweet, you know, not just, it's, to me, just right. Yeah.


What's your favorite chocolate? Milk. Milk chocolate. But brand.


Oh. Like Hershey's, I don't know what other kinds. Godiva.


Oh, Godiva. I like Godiva. There are, excuse me, so I have friends who come to town.


They all are, you know, like from, you know, different countries, and they just seem to know the, I mean, places I've never heard of in New York, these really expensive candy shops. I mean, small little candy shops, especially on the Upper East Side. Holy smokes.


I mean, I mean, the candies are expensive, but the taste. Oh, Marianne, no Hershey. And again, even with, I mean, we've said this before.


It, when we were kids, I mean, Hershey's and Nestle's just tasted like chocolate. I, it seems the ingredients have changed, and I don't know, to me, it just doesn't taste like pure chocolate as it did when I was a kid. But these places they like going to, yeah, it tastes like chocolate.


Just, and the creams inside. Oh, dear, the creams inside. I especially love the lemon creams.


It is so lemony. I like a lemon cream with a dark chocolate, because the dark chocolate, it's just a nice companion to that tartiness. Oh, I just remembered, there is a place that I, it's by Carnegie Hall.


I mean, it is not much bigger than a shoe box. Wow, just put the name of it. Well, just by, right by Carnegie Hall, the proprietress, she, I believe she was, I mean, she's an older lady now, but she was like the niece of the original owner.


They came from Austria. Oh, dear, the chocolate's there. Yeah, there we are.


All homemade, and just a charming little shop. I mean, like New York used to have back in the day. Yeah, well, I'll look forward to that little box arriving in my mail.


Yeah, you keep looking for that, babe. It'll, it is on its way. I'm holding my breath.


So, to continue with food, for our first half, it was a hot Friday in June when money and rose petals fell from the sky over Gratiot Avenue near Connor Street in Detroit, in honor of Daryl Plant Thomas's death. Thomas was the owner of the Hand Car Wash Showroom Shine Express, located on the east side of Detroit, when he died at age 58 from Alzheimer's disease. His sons, Daryl and Jonte, organized a helicopter to drop Thomas's life savings of five thousand dollars, plus rose petals, at 1 27 p.m. over the Showroom Shine Express on the day of Thomas's funeral.


All six lanes of traffic along Gratiot came to a standstill, while people stopped their cars, some right in the middle of the road, before exiting and running toward the falling bills. Outside of owning Showroom Shine Express, Thomas was a National Hot Rod Association licensed professional race car driver, as well as a brother, father, and grandfather. One of his nephews posted on social media, them boys shut Gratiot down on both sides, dropped a light five bands and rose petals out of the helicopter for my Uncle P, and east side legend, Daryl Thomas.


Rest in peace, Mr. Thomas. With Detroit in mind, and never far from my heart, our funeral lunch recipe is Detroit-style pizza dip. Detroit pizza was developed in the Motor City during the mid-1940s, and was originally baked in pans built for wholly small automotive parts.


I kid you not, folks, but you do not need Henry Ford's auto parts for this dip recipe. Bon Appetit! While you're here, please go to our webpage for this week's recipe and additional resources for this program. This is the part where we ask for your financial support.


Your tax-deductible gift will go directly to supporting our non-profit journalism, so that we can remain accessible to everyone. You can donate at www.everyonedies.org, that's every, the number one, dies, or at our site on Patreon under Everyone Dies. Marianne? Thanks, Charlie.


When someone we care about is living with chronic illness, many of us want to help, but we're not always sure how. We may have no training for this, no clear script to follow. We often learn through uncomfortable moments, awkward conversations, and good intentions that don't always turn out the way that we may hope.


Chronic illness can include pain, fatigue, autoimmune disease, neurological conditions, or other long-term health problems. What these conditions share is not just physical symptoms, but uncertainty. They change how people move through the world, how much energy they have, and how predictable their days can be.


Today, we're talking about how to support someone living with chronic illness in ways that are meaningful without trying to fix what cannot be fixed. First, remember that fixing is so tempting. Many of us are uncomfortable with the suffering of others.


When someone we care about is struggling, we want to make it feel better. We want to offer advice, solutions, or reassurance. Sometimes that comes from love.


Sometimes that comes from our own anxiety. But chronic illness often doesn't always have a clear solution or path to wellness. Or maybe one doesn't exist at all.


Attempts to fix things can unintentionally communicate that the person's experience is a problem to be solved rather than a reality to be respected and maybe accepted. Support begins when we accept that our role is not to cure, but to accompany. Second, listening is an active skill, not a passive one.


It requires attention, restraint, and patience. When someone talks about their experience of living with chronic illness, resist the urge to interrupt, compare, or redirect the conversation toward solutions. Avoid phrases like, at least, have you tried, or it could be worse.


These responses often shut conversations down, even when they're meant to help. Instead, listen to the person and try to understand what they are saying to you. Allow pauses.


Let the person tell their story in their way, even if you've heard parts of it before. Chronic illness is not a single event. It unfolds over time, and people often need to talk through it repeatedly as their circumstances change.


Listening communicates respect. It tells someone their experience matters. It may feel like you want to do something more concrete, but in truth, people often do not get the opportunity to tell their stories.


It's through the telling that people can understand and process for themselves what they have or are experiencing. Third, see the person, not just the illness. One of the most common fears people living with chronic illness describe is becoming invisible or being seen only through the lens of their diagnosis.


We want to be who we are, not a diagnosis or a problem to solve. Supportive communication recognizes that illness is part of someone's life, but not the whole of who they are. Speak to them as you always have.


Share ordinary moments. Talk about things that have nothing to do with their health. This doesn't mean avoiding difficult conversations.


It means seek the full range of who someone is, their interests, their opinions, their humor, frustrations, and resilience. Remember that compassion does not require constant seriousness. It requires genuineness, humor, and a healthy dose of Oreo cookies.


Fourth, respect individual autonomy in the care decisions people make. People living with chronic illness often pilot complex medical systems and make decisions that others may not fully understand. Support means respecting those decisions, even when you might choose differently for yourself.


If someone wants to talk about treatments, symptom management, or approaches that they're considering, listen without judgment. If they ask what you think, acknowledge the difficulty of making the types of decisions that they are facing. If you have experience and reliable information, you can pass the Oreos and talk it through.


If you don't, acknowledge this and admit that you don't have enough experience to offer an opinion, but that you trust them to make the best decision for themselves. If they don't want advice, respect that boundary, and you can have an Oreo anyway. You don't need to be an expert.


You don't need to agree with every choice. It's important, though, to honor that it is their body and their life, and you'll be at their side no matter what they decide. Fifth, remember the importance of practical help.


Chronic illness often affects energy in unpredictable ways. A task that feels manageable one day may be overwhelming the next. Practical support can ease this burden.


Offering to run an errand, prepare a meal, or help with household tasks can reduce stress in meaningful ways. Call and say you're running to the store and ask them what you can pick up for them, rather than asking if they need anything. What matters is offering help clearly and specifically, rather than in vague terms that place the burden of asking back on the person who's already depleted.


Small actions done consistently often matter more than large gestures done once. Remember that consistency builds trust and a feeling of safety. Support doesn't have to be dramatic.


It doesn't need to be perfect. What it does need to be is consistent. Things like a brief message or a card in the mail, a text that says you're thinking of them or sending a funny beam, a check-in without expectations, an invitation that leaves room for a no.


These signals of ongoing presence help people feel less isolated over time. Consistency communicates reliability. It says you are not alone in this, even when things don't change.


Next, avoid the trap of control. Sometimes support crosses into control. This can happen when we make decisions for someone, assume what they need, or step in without asking.


While often well-intentioned, this can undermine a person's sense of independence. Chronic illness already takes away enough control. Support should help preserve autonomy, not diminish it.


Asking before acting, checking preferences, and respecting boundaries are essential parts of ethical support. Lastly, accept your own imperfection. No one supports another person perfectly.


There will be miscues, awkward moments, and times when we say the wrong thing. What matters is not flawlessness, but willingness. The willingness to stay present, to learn, and to keep showing up even when it's uncomfortable.


Many people living with chronic illness remember not the exact words that were said, but who stayed. Supporting someone with chronic illness does not mean fixing their condition or finding the right words every time. It means offering steady presence, honest listening, and respect for their lived experiences.


That kind of support may feel quiet. It may not feel heroic, but it's often what makes life more livable. Supporting someone who lives with chronic illness doesn't mean having the right words or the right solutions.


It requires patience. It requires listening without trying to change the story and staying connected even when things don't improve. If there's one thing to take from this episode, it's that support is not about fixing a body or solving a problem.


It's about honoring someone's experience and continuing to show up steadily and perfectly and with care. If this episode brought up thoughts about how you support others or how you wish to be supported yourself, you're not alone. These conversations are ongoing and learning to show up is a process.


Please follow with us to continue to learn more about serious illness, dying, death, and bereavement. Charlie, have you had experience helping people through chronic illnesses? Oh, yeah. Even now.


Yes. And what... Because with the, you know, now with friends, they... One friend said, you know what? You've been so sincere and so helpful. Aren't you going to insult me? Because, you know, I always just do.


I mean, and to your point, yeah, I've had to deal with, and more so right now, but I've had to deal with people who've been sick and, you know, chronically ill and dying. And it was never about that. I knew everything that was going on and I don't know, just getting conversations about, you know, stuff we had done together, stuff we would like to do, just making jokes, remembering funny stories.


It was that, you know. I knew they were sick and in some cases dying. And it wasn't about that.


It was just what you were saying. It was just the connection. That's what's counted.


That is what counted, is a connection. And even though someone's dying or really sick, if you've always insulted them, then you should continue to insult them. That's it.


That's it. Because, I mean, there's a history of that. And, you know, and sometimes, you know, people have said, okay, you need to stop.


It's hurting too much. You know, and fine. I would, you know, I would pull back.


But it's— You mean they were hurting too much from laughing? From laughing, yeah. Oh, I'm sorry. Yeah.


I thought you were being too mean or something. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. You know, and the other thing, you know, what you said when you were, when you started talking about, oh, how did you put it? You know, someone, you know, talks about, you know, their problem.


And, well, gosh, at least it's not A, B, and C, you know, things like that. Oh, you think that's bad? I have a friend with, you know— Yeah, exactly. So I've seen that.


And then also, it has happened to me, if, you know, something was off with me or something bad with me, where, you know, I'm just opening up to this person. And then the response is, oh, gosh, I understand that exactly. My Aunt Bessie.


Boy, you should have seen her because it was just like what you said because Aunt Bessie, and it goes off on a tangent about Aunt Bessie. I don't care about your Aunt Bessie. I want you to listen to me.


So that, that as well. Yeah, I just, yeah, it's just that thing. You know someone is special, and I don't know.


Just when I say you don't treat them as special, I mean you don't go out of the way. Just give them, do for them what you have always done. You know, be a friend, be a companion, run an errand, that.


And also, you know, like I'm thinking about how throughout our entire almost 50-year relationship, you've always called me for, you know, like what cold medicine do I buy? What's this? I'm in CVS. I'm in the aisle. Which one do I need? And you introduced me to that.


To that, you know, orange thing and green thing. Like what fresh hell is this? But there we are. It worked, yes.


But my point being is that, you know, because someone's sick, like if I get sick, is that I wouldn't want someone who's always called me to say, oh, well, she's got her own things going on. I'm not going to bother her. Because that takes away that part of that relationship.


So, you know, keep your relationship and, you know, do the things that you always did. Because people even, people want to be treated like they're people and people want to be useful. And the fact that you're sick or that you have a chronic illness or whatever is going on, doesn't negate the fact that we had a relationship.


That involved middle of the night CVS calls. Anyway. Anyway.


For our third half, a poem excerpt from Grief Is Like Glitter by Erin Hansen. Someone said grief is like glitter. It clings to everything.


Highs and corners, slips into your socks, appears on your fingertips when you're reaching for a glass of water or brushing your hair before bed. It settles in places no one else can see. And sometimes it sparkles.


Sometimes it doesn't. And I think that's true, not because it makes grief prettier, but because it makes it stubborn. Grief does not knock politely and leave when you ask.


It spills. It stains. It stays.


People imagine grief as a clean wound. Blood, bandage, better. But really, it's a messy room you can't fully clean.


A scent that lingers even after all the windows are opened. A sound you keep hearing long after the music stops. Some people lose things they love.


Books, cities, voices, future plans. Keep walking as if nothing happened. Others crumble at the touch of a sweater sleeve or the sound of a name.


There's no proper timeline for learning how to live with what you miss. Some days you'll do it gracefully. Other days you'll choke on it.


That's still living. And maybe that's the kindest thing about grief. It's evidence that something mattered.


That someone left fingerprints on your heart so brightly the light still catches on them. That you lived a moment so fully its echo still finds its way back into your lungs. So if it hurts, maybe that's okay.


If it glitters in the dark and you cry when no one is looking, maybe that's okay too. You are not weak for remembering. You are not broken for carrying pieces of people with you.


That's what makes you real. That's what makes you capable of love. And love in all its form is a reason we ever grieve at all.


Please stay tuned for the continuing saga of Everyone Dies. And thank you for listening. You can find more episodes from our series about grief on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or your favorite podcast app.


Follow and subscribe to the show. Share it with someone who needs a little hope today. This is Charlie Navarrete.


And from novelist Chuck Palahniuk of the Fight Club, I don't want to die without any scars. And I'm Marianne Matzo. And we'll see you next week.


Remember, every day is a gift. This podcast does not provide medical advice. All discussion on this podcast, such as treatments, dosages, outcomes, charts, patient profiles, advice, messages, and any other discussion are for informational purposes only and are not a substitute for professional medical advice or treatment.


Always seek the advice of your primary care practitioner or other qualified health providers with any questions that you may have regarding your health. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have heard from this podcast. If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor or 911 immediately.


Everyone Dies does not recommend or endorse any specific tests, practitioners, products, procedures, opinions, or other information that may be mentioned in this podcast. Reliance on any information provided in this podcast by persons appearing on this podcast at the invitation of Everyone Dies or by other members is solely at your own risk.