She was going to write a book about it, but instead she decided to tell me the story. I am glad because I think her subject is universal.
"How To Visit the Very Sick" was to be her topic.
Six months ago, her husband, Jim, had a stroke that left his right side paralyzed. Since he returned from the hospital, she has been his sole caretaker.
She is exhausted both physically and emotionally. She had company dropping in for weeks afterward, some unannounced.
Fran finds what some people say and the way they react to a very sick person disheartening.
"I was delighted we have so many friends," she tells me. "And I am so grateful he is no longer in the hospital. But I find it difficult to entertain the guests who drop in while I need time to bathe, dress and feed him. I tell you, you find out who your real friends are when someone is sick."
She explains that the friends who love Jim unconditionally have been wonderful, bringing food, flowers, books and cheer. But there are some who have dropped in for somewhat obscure reasons.
"There are those who had not seen Jim in years, and they suddenly appeared. They came by and tired him out. I think they came by out of curiosity -- perhaps they are afraid they might have a stroke and they wanted to see what someone looks like who has survived."
Fran says that there are some visitors who seem nervous and uncomfortable in his presence. She thinks that they see their own mortality when they look at him so debilitated.
But they are drawn as by a magnet to the scene.
They are the same people who rubber-neck on the highway to see a car accident.
I can relate to Fran's dilemma. Two years ago, after my husband had a severe heart attack, I never had time to wash my hair or clean the house because of the parade of people who came by.
Many say the wrong things when they visit the sick, or rather they don't know what to say.
One such friend said, "Oh, you DO look like you have been sick . . .," and another said, "You have lost a lot of weight," or . . . "My father had a heart attack, and it took him two years to get well."
We all need to learn how to conduct ourselves when visiting the sick. With a serious illness, the patient needs empathy but not sympathy, comfort without obsequiousness and compassion without pity.
When you have a heart attack, you and your family are in kind of an emotional exile from the world of the well, and you need to be surrounded by hope.
Syndicated columnist "Dear Abby" (Abigail VanBuren), who has written some great columns on this subject, offers this advice.
"All visitors to the sick should call first and ask what's the best time to come by the hospital or the home," says Ms. VanBuren. "And come alone, two people can be too many for the sick. Above all, don't bring children. If you bring food, put it in a disposable container. Don't bring bad news."
And, she says: "Be sure to use phrases like 'It is wonderful to see you,' but don't lie. Don't try to entertain the patient."