Monday, 18 August 2025
One of the many unexpected gifts of being sick and lying in a hospital bed is that I’ve been given a crash course on empathy. Not through books, not through theory, but through the way people responded to my condition. Some people were so shocked they ended up adding to my stress. Some others went into panic mode and made me feel like I was starring in a medical drama. And then, there were the few, those precious few, who responded with calm, with prayers, with strength. And yes, those are the ones who left the deepest mark on me.
I realized that empathy is not about amplifying someone’s fear. It’s about holding space, bringing calm, and reminding them they’re not alone.
Here’s what I learned:
The Don’ts
Don’t respond with shock or horror. The sick person already knows their situation is not ideal; they don’t need your “Aduh! Kok bisa? Hah, gimana ceritanya? Shock aku. Kamu makannya nggak hati-hati ya?” That kind of negative energy just piles up more worry.
Don’t make it about your own fears. Empathy is not a stage for you to process your shock. It’s about being present for the other.
The Do’s
Offer prayer, strength, and reassurance. Something as simple as, “All will be well. I’m keeping you in my prayers. You’re in good hands.”
If possible, add practical help: “Can I bring you something? Do you need me to check on anything for you?”
I want to show you some good examples. Take my master degree's classmate Bu Idi, for instance. Her messages carried peace. She didn’t dramatize. She prayed, she blessed, she reminded me I was not walking this road alone. That kind of support stays with you.
And then there’s my good friend Mba Eva. Oh, she’s a masterclass in empathy. From the very beginning, her messages soothed me instead of spiking my anxiety. She didn’t just say “get well soon”, she even offered help. And little did I know, I would actually need it.
And what a visit it was. She drove all the way, carrying a huge bag of shiny imported apples (like a scene out of Snow White, minus the poison) and some sets of corsets I get to choose. Friends, let me tell you: these corsets were life-saver! Suddenly, my wobbly, post-surgery belly felt supported, and walking didn’t feel like medieval torture anymore. It was like being hugged, but by fabric, not by a husband you’re afraid to squish.
Not only did it help physically, but it also gave me confidence when facing one of the hardest parts: dealing with the leftover mucus in my throat and lungs from the oxygen tube during surgery. Breathing felt like swallowing glue. I even had to use a nebulizer for the first time in my life. Coughing was agony. But with the corset holding me, the pain was a little less monstrous.
Honestly, I don’t think Mba Eva realized how much she helped me. Not just with apples and corsets, but with her presence, her gentleness, and her willingness to show up. It reminded me of something Maya Angelou once said: “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
Being on the receiving end of empathy has changed the way I want to give it. I don’t want to be the one who shocks or dramatizes. I want to be the one who steadies, who strengthens, who says, “I’m here. You’ll get through this.”
So, dear friend, the next time someone you know is sick, don’t ask for the medical report. Ask how you can lighten their load. Bring peace, not panic. Offer presence, not pity. And if all else fails, remember: apples and corsets can go a long way 😍
Chewing apple and wearing corset with comfort,
Nuniek Tirta
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