70 | April• 2018
A SCARY SYMPATHY
M
Y MUM’S ABOUT TO
have spinal surgery.
There’s an illusion of
choice about it: one
consultant suggested
she should have it immediately, while
another said she had “acres of time” to
make up her mind. (When pushed, he
said she shouldn’t leave it untreated
for more than six months.)
The operation – a lumbar decom-
pression – is relatively straightfor-
ward, in spinal surgery terms, but
does carry a risk of paralysis, as does
any intervention around those nerves.
If she opted not to have the procedure,
though, there would be a chance of
eventually becoming confined to a
wheelchair anyway. So, surgery it is.
Friends and family have reacted
to this news predictably, offering
up chicken soup and platitudes, but
also surprisingly, by talking in such
negative terms that Mum has come
to label the encounters “psycholog-
ical theft”. his conversational crime
is motivated by compassion, but can
have devastating consequences, and
is usually committed by accident.
It occurs when – by thoughtlessly
reflecting their own negative expe-
riences – other people hijack your
anxiety and put themselves in it,
rather than provide relief from it.
I’LLGIVEYOUANEXAMPLE.Last
weekMumwenttothepostoffice
andbumpedintoGeof(nothisreal
name), who works for the local travel
agent. “How are you?” he asked.
“Not great,” she replied. “I’ve been
having some trouble with my back
and I’m going to need surgery.”
“Oh, GOD!” he responded. “The
back is the most dangerous place to
operate. My mum had that and she
was in terrible pain. Make sure you
get all your afairs in order before you
go under the knife – it takes months
to get over it!”
Now, Geoff ’s intention had been
benign. He’d relayed his own mother’s
story to show sympathy, ie, demon-
strating his knowledge that chronic
back pain is nasty. He’d also wanted
to show empathy – to articulate that
Mum is hardly the only person to have
sufered with this condition, and she
needn’t feel alone. As he walked away,
Geof was probably thinking:I’ve just
related on a personal level to this
panic-stricken woman. I’ve told her a
story about someone I know who ex-
perienced similar obstacles and came
through alive. Well done, Geof, you’re
quite the man! You’re getting a bubble
bath tonight!Needless to say, this was
not Mum’s takeaway from Geof. She
heard: pain, danger, knife, months.
Astonishingly, another acquaint-
ance reacted to Mum’s predicament
by actually reeling off statistics for
unsuccessful back surgery. I can’t
begin to fathom how this could be
considered a helpful contribution,
frankly – but, if I’m being charita-
ble, perhaps it was his way of saying,
“You’re right to be concerned, yes;