17 Oct
2026
When a friend has a chronic illness, the hard part isn't one bad week. It's the months and years. Many people show up at the start, then slowly fade away when the illness doesn't go away. Being the friend who stays is one of the most valuable things you can offer.
Jonathan Anthony Burkett lived with seizures for years before he had brain surgery in January 2006. In his memoir Neglected But Undefeated, he describes hospital stays, seizures at school and in the street, and the strain of never knowing when the next one would come.
He also describes how it felt to be watched. When he returned to school after one long stretch of seizures, he wrote that “everyone watched me, not knowing when I was going to have a seizure.” People weren't being cruel. They were nervous. But being watched like that can feel isolating.
And he remembers the people who stayed beside him. A girlfriend from those years would stay right with him through a seizure: “she would lie there beside me until I came back to my right mind.” His best friend talked with him on the phone day and night while he was in the hospital. Friends gave him places to sleep. His godmother, Marise Christophe, who worked at the hospital, coordinated a surgeon who would not charge him. Those people didn't cure anything. They made it bearable.
Every illness is different, and so is every person living with one. The best way to help is to ask. What does a bad day look like for you? What helps? Is there anything you'd like me to know if something happens while we're together?
Then believe what they tell you. Many chronic conditions are invisible, and symptoms can change from day to day. Someone can look fine and feel terrible. Avoid telling them they look healthy as if that settles it, which can feel like doubt.
It also helps to ask how much they want to talk about their illness. Some people want to share every update. Others are tired of being asked and would rather just hang out. Let them set the pace, and check in every so often because that can change.
Support works best when it's specific. Instead of a general offer to help with anything, try offering something concrete:
Your friend is still your friend. Talk about music, sports, work, plans and everyday life, not just symptoms. Laugh together. Let them be good at things. Pity can feel heavier than the illness itself, so aim for respect instead.
Jonathan once wrote that he hated when people felt sorry for him and gave him a look that made him feel like a soft little baby. Many people living with an illness feel the same. They want care, not pity, and they want to be seen as the whole person they still are.
If you're unsure what to do in an emergency, learn the basics for their condition from a reliable medical source or from your friend's own plan. For seizures, widely shared first-aid basics include staying calm, timing the seizure, moving hard objects away, cushioning the head, turning the person gently onto their side and never putting anything in their mouth. Call 911 if a seizure lasts longer than five minutes, if another one follows, if the person is injured or has trouble breathing, or if it's their first seizure.
This article is general information, not medical advice. Follow your friend's care plan and their doctors' guidance.
Chronic illness isn't a sprint, so pace yourself. You don't need to do everything. A few people each doing a little is better than one person burning out. Check in regularly, even briefly. A short text on an ordinary Tuesday can mean as much as a visit during a crisis.
Jonathan wrote that when he couldn't get up, God sent someone into his life “to hold my hand and help me back up.” You might be that someone for a friend right now.
Today, send a message to a friend living with a long-term illness, and offer one specific kind of help. To read more about the people who stood by Jonathan, find Neglected But Undefeated on his Books page.