I got my fanny kicked today, and not by just anyone. No, it was by an expert interviewer. And I wasn’t even being interviewed at the time. I was doing the prep for a guest spot on a talk show. The way things look at the moment, it doesn’t look like I will be sitting in that hot seat.
I am a caregiver educator. My goal is to make a difference in the lives of people who need care and family members who provide it. I’m looking to fix the disconnects, so that everyone wins. The topic of the expected interview was cancer caregiving. It’s a subject that means a lot to me for many reasons. I’m always focused on making sure that cancer survivors get what they need as much as cancer caregivers. So much of what goes on after a loved one gets a cancer diagnosis is driven by the emotional impact on life. How can we make it better between cancer patient and caregiver? What can we do to bridge the gap, so cancer patients feel less lonely? Is there anything more heartbreaking than the losses, not only of the physical body to the disease, but the overwhelming sense of emotional isolation? How many cancer patients walk through life wounded? And how many caregivers feel helpless and frustrated, unable to find the right words to say, the right things to do?
I can see how the interviewer got off-track in our exchanged emails. She focused on one thing and ran with it, in the opposite direction from where I was headed. When I shared my talking points, I had a list of subjects that I am well-versed in. But she made up her mind as to what she wanted and it wasn’t what I had in mind. This wasn’t going to be a win-win situation. You see, this isn’t a cooperative relationship. It’s her job to set the perimeters and not my job to comment.
I gave her the benefit of the doubt, suggesting there was a miscommunication between us. That was an opportunity for her to scale it back a bit, to recognize that she wasn’t making her point effectively. After all, I’ve never been invited to be a guest on a show, only to be told later that it might be best to invite another guest to “help” with it. To help with what? Why? To me, that’s like being uninvited to a party.
The interviewer stated that she has never faced this problem with other guests. Apparently there are almost three hundred contented individuals in the last year alone and just one little, old, disgruntled me. I seem to be the only one who’s ever questioned her approach.
And then, to really drive home the point, she wanted me to know that she was just trying to put together a good show. I guess she’s telling me that I didn’t appreciate her hard work. Once more, my bad. Shame on me for taking umbrage with her efforts. I guess that makes me very difficult to work with and definitely unreasonable. How else can you explain it?
The irony? She still doesn’t see the problem, but I do. This is about effective communications. This is about really listening. This is about perceptions. You see, I’m at the point in my life where I expect to engage in a dialogue that goes back and forth. If I’m going to take an hour out of my life to have a conversation, I don’t want to talk at someone. I want to talk with someone. I want to be on the same page. I don’t want to feel like I’m on the short end of the stick, any more than I want to put someone in that position. We’re talking about cancer. I’ve seen the devastation — the broken relationships, the injured spirits.
From where she sits, I’m sure most people are thrilled to be guests on her show. That may be why they are okay with her style of conversation. I can even see that she might feel I am totally out in left field because I had the audacity to question her judgment. But from where I’m standing, I see an interviewer who is so focused on her own show, the guests are just the backdrop for her version of cancer life. It’s all packaged. This isn’t about educating people or sharing. This is a commercial enterprise. And that’s something I find a lot in the cancer world. Everyone’s out to make a buck off cancer families. This one has books. That one is selling a program. Bottom line? It’s really all about sales and marketing.
If you’ve ever really sat down with cancer survivors who have felt like strangers in a strange land, or with cancer caregivers who were baffled about how to make things better for the people they love, it’s nearly impossible to be casual about the subject. Every time I have a genuine conversation with a cancer survivor or a cancer caregiver, I am humbled. I am always hungry to learn more. Cancer isn’t a business enterprise, a money-maker, a means to a financial end. Most of the media people I know whose lives have been touched by cancer find it very hard to just play the game. They might do it when it comes to sports or politics or daily living, but the Big C is still the Big C. It matters that we get it right.
Every time I reach out to cancer families, I am mindful that there is so much more we can do, should do, to improve the quality of life for everyone. I want to get it right. I don’t want to talk for the sake of talking about cancer. I want to talk because Harry in Daytona Beach is feeling blue and wishes he knew what he could do to make a positive change. I want to talk because there is something I can say to make Mary in Philly feel a little less alone. I don’t ever want to waste the time of cancer families. But then, I know how important time is when it comes to this disease.
Am I overly sensitive? Probably. Could I have handled the miscommunication better? Probably. But I still think I hit the nail on the head on this one. When an interviewer goes plowing through guests like Grant took Richmond, it’s less about quality and more about quantity. When the script is written without any interest in having a real dialogue about cancer’s impact on families, count me out. I may be an idiot for handling things this way. Time will surely tell. But this is my passion. Life should be better for cancer families and I am committed to making that happen. If I can’t do that, I should shut up and go wait in the truck.