How to talk to your coworker with cancer (and not sound like an insensitive jerk)

Cards on the table: I’ve got cancer. Again. This is my second round with it. It’s not the most deadly of kinds, usually, but the treatment is surgery heavy. (They go in and cut out stuffs. If it comes back, they go in and cut it out again. It’s a nasty little cycle.)

I’m used to cancer—the hospitals and the scanning facilities and the doctors’ offices and the industrial scales in the floor that make me feel more like a Mack truck than a frail human body. I’m used to drinking radioactive dye so often I wonder if I’ll develop some slick superpowers and holding my breath and counting backwards for not-fun stuff that, sadly, does not involve learning to scuba diving.

So, I forget sometimes that for many people cancer is new and scary. I forget that people have visceral reactions to cancer and hearing you have cancer. Some cry for you. Some deliver gifts and groceries. Many, many people apologize.

Without loading you down with statistics to back me up, I’m going to guess that at some point in your career, you’ll work with someone going through cancer treatment, and you may find yourself in that awkward position of deciding the most appropriate approach to the big, nasty cancer elephant in the room. Do you ignore it? Do you confront it up front … and then ignore it? Do you try to have more empathy than normal with business issues?

While every cancer and every person with cancer is unique, there are some universal truths I can convey here the next time you run across a moment where you brain is asking those questions above.

First: Your coworker with cancer likely isn’t keeping it a secret. So, you don’t have to treat it like one. Sometimes it’s more awkward not to confront it. I was out for six weeks with this bout, and I never expected my boss or other friends and coworkers who knew to pretend like they didn’t. Trying to wade back into work is awkward enough without everyone trying to pretend there wasn’t a darn thing going on. Now, don’t violate HIPAA laws or anything, but don’t feel like you have to totally ignore reality.

Second: You coworker with cancer isn’t going to break. We’re tough. We’ve had surgeries and radiation and chemo. We’ve had a million needles jammed into us and been covered in head-to-toe bruises like a prize fighter after a TKO. You don’t have to approach things from an ultra-sensitive, ultra-polite point. Trust me, after being told you have cancer, being told there’s a delay in a work project or a typo on a web page or a system change or just general negative feedback doesn’t need sugarcoated. We can totally take it.

Third: Your coworker with cancer would love to be included. Now, admittedly, I’m not the biggest fan of a meeting-heavy schedule personally, but that has nothing to do with my cancer recovery and everything to do with my lone-wolf personality. (Wolf is not JUST my actual middle name.) Still, my favorite moments on coming back were not the emotional ones, they were the “so glad you’re back, can you help me” ones. When you’ve been feeling like the needy one, it’s great to be needed instead. Whether it’s planning for a project or just soliciting a little advice, reach out and include that recovering coworker.

In the end, the best piece of advice I can give you is this: Your coworker with cancer is still the same person you know (and love, hopefully) and have known (and loved, hopefully) for years. Don’t let the shadow of a cancer diagnosis change the relationship you have with them—especially if it’s a good relationship you both really value. If it’s suddenly awkward, bring that up. Discuss it. Air it out. Be honest. You may even find yourselves laughing about it in the end.