breast cancer

New York Times best-selling author Jane Green is a mother of six. Remarkably, she has written a book a year for the past 12 years. Like her other books, the newest one also focuses on the emotional lives of lives of women.

Promises to Keep, was inspired by the life and death of her real-life friend Heidi, who was diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. The journey she shared with her girlfriend, accompanying her to chemo and spending time with her when she was too weak to leave her bed, profoundly affected the way Jane thinks about relationships, especially her friendships. My interview with Jane highlights some of her thoughts about that life-changing friendship with Heidi:

Irene:

Jane, I know you were born in London. What challenges did you face as an expat making friendships in a new country? How did you meet those challenges?

Jane:

It took me a long time to find my footing here. I moved and made instant friends through having a young child and joining a mommy and me group, but few of them were lasting. By the time a year was up, I had a core group of three who remain amongst my dearest.

Irene:

How did you meet your friend Heidi, who inspired the book? What was special about that friendship?

Jane:

Heidi was one of those three mentioned above. I met her first at a children's music class. I didn't know her name, but we cracked up laughing at the ridiculousness of the teacher. When she left, I was instantly regretful that I didn't ask for her number. All I knew was that her name was Heidi, she had a son, and she lived on the other side of town. I spent a week trying to find her, and on the Friday I was hosting a playgroup in my yard. I was alone with my son, waiting for our regular mothers to arrive, when my garden gate opened and in walked Heidi. She had been invited by one of the regulars.

We became instant fast friends, and put our children into pre-school together, so we were together every day. She was a remarkable girl. She had more confidence and sparkle than anyone I have ever met, was utterly comfortable in her own skin, and as a result drew people to her. She was incredibly wise, and measured, and the first person I always turned to for advice.

Irene:

What impact did the premature and tragic death of a friend have on your life/friendships?

Jane:

I am very busy, life is very busy, and I was, I think, a somewhat lazy friend. I love them, I know they love me, but I didn't make much of an effort. I would forget to call, and was relieved that even if we didn't see each other often, our friendships somehow stayed the same. Going through an illness and then death of a close friend, has changed my attitudes to friendship enormously.

I learned that saying you love your friends isn't enough; that love is a verb, it requires Acts of Love. It is all about the doing, not the saying, and now I make a point, every day, of emailing, or phoning, or making a plan with those I love.

Irene:

You have four young children, a new husband with two children of his own, and an active career. How do you balance friendships with the rest of your life?

Jane:

I have learned that it is imperative that I make time for my friends, that they demand to be as much a part of the mix as my family and my work, and perhaps more so, because they are not an inevitability. All relationships, be it your spouse, your family, your friends, take work, and I make sure that a part of every day is spent connecting with friends.

Irene:

What friendship lessons do you think that mothers need to convey to their daughters?

Jane:

Kindness, I believe, is key. Avoiding "girl drama" by not engaging and walking away. Consideration of others.

Book Giveaway:

Jane's latest book is so gripping that I had a hard time putting it down. Would you like a chance to win a free copy and be one of the first people to read Promises to Keep? If so:

Post a comment here about the most important friendship lesson you've ever learned or else email it to me at Irene@TheFriendshipBlog.com with the subject line: FRIENDSHIP LESSONS.

Please be sure to include your email address if you post it so I can contact you if you are the winner.

Winners will be selected at random from all entries received by 11:59 PM on Tuesday, July 6, 2010. U.S. shipping addresses only, please. Good luck, girlfriends!

"I'm part of a club I didn't mean to join," writes Gail Konop Baker, author of Cancer is a Bitch: Or, I'd Rather Be Having a Midlife Crisis (Da Capo, 2008).

Baker, a mother of three and wife of a doctor, was a self-professed health nut. She ran marathons, practiced yoga, ate organic foods, and was a lifelong subscriber to Prevention magazine. Like many of us, she believed that she could keep breast cancer at bay: It was something that happened to other people's friends, relatives, neighbors and co-workers.

Then, at the age of 45, after two prior biopsies that turned out to be false alarms, Baker was diagnosed with ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS), the most common form of noninvasive breast cancer.

This intelligent, funny, and extremely gutsy book not only chronicles Baker's breast cancer journey and successful treatment, but talks about marriage, motherhood, careers and the significance of friendships in women's lives. Her voice is unusually compelling because it is so intimate and honest, like a best friend telling you her story.

Gail graciously responded to several questions I posed about the impact of her diagnosis on her female friendships:

Do you believe that there is a sisterhood of breast cancer survivors? If so, why?

If you'd asked me that before I went on tour for my book, I wouldn't have known since I was the first (still am) in my circle of friends to be diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn't join any support groups either. I have to admit I felt very alone. But as I toured the country this fall and winter, I met survivors and felt an instant and immediate bond. There was really nothing that made me feel better than a survivor telling me that my book touched her, made her feel less alone, helped her understand the feelings she was feeling.

I think the reason there is this instant connection is that receiving a cancer diagnosis is like being forced to walk through fire. It isn't something you choose. It isn't something you can conjure in your mind. And once you've walked through it alters your perceptions of life forever. Life is different. I think survivors bond because they have been forced to feel and see and taste and smell and live life through a different lens. I meet a survivor now and it's like we share a secret language.

What are the range of reactions (so aptly described in your book) that friends have to someone who is diagnosed with breast cancer?

Everyone meant well and all of my friends were very generous. They brought me food and flowers and took care of my children but few knew what to say. I think that was because their own fear got in the way and understandably so. But the hardest thing was seeing myself as someone else's worst fear. Feeling their dread. They didn't even have to say anything for me to feel it.

But a couple of friend encounters stand out in my mind. Just before my surgery when I was in a very funky funk, one of my best friends came over and told me, "If you have to shave my head, I'll shave mine in solidarity." Luckily I didn't have to but her words made me feel like she would walk through the fire with me. That she wasn't afraid of me. That she didn't feel differently about me.

After my surgery, I ran a half marathon with that same friend and another one of our friends. After the race we were talking old boyfriends and sex and I told them I didn't feel very sexy with all my scars. They talked me into showing them my worst scar and inched my shirt down and they stared at a minute before one of them said, "Scars are hot! I think it makes you sexier."

Did you rely on your friends for practical advice and help?

Not so much advice but, as I said above, they brought food and helped with my children and showered me with love and concern, Honestly, I didn't even know I had so many good friends until I was diagnosed. I was absolutely blown away by the love and support that surrounded me.

Did your friendships change at all since you were diagnosed? Did you dump some friends and add others? Did you get closer to some and feel more distant from others? What accounted for the changes?

Great question! Cancer brought clarity to my life and gave me license to declutter my life. So yes, some friendships, the ones that were draining me, fell away. I felt like I didn't have time to waste on relationships that weren't mutually enriching.

But it also made me aware of the depth of some of my friendships and deepened those bonds. My best friend helped me get my feet back on the ground. Literally. Soon after my surgery she came over and told me to put my running shoes on and pulled me out the door and forced me to put one foot in front of the other.

'Friendship by the Book' is an occasional series of posts on this blog about books that offer friendship lessons. To read other posts in the series, use the search function on the right side of the page.