Taking you through my journey, I hit a point that was exceptionally tough after leaving the breast care clinic: deciding when and how to share my diagnosis. The conversation between my husband and me about when to tell our loved ones was filled with uncertainty and concern. He felt sharing early would gather essential support sooner, which we’d inevitably need through this difficult time. Meanwhile, I hesitated. The idea of inviting others into our whirlwind of confusion and anxiety felt overwhelming, I wasn’t ready to add any more stress to our already heavy emotional load. I was acutely aware that opening up about my diagnosis would unleash a flood of well-intentioned inquiries and offers to help, all of which meant well but seemed daunting because I didn't feel equipped to handle them yet. The truth was, I wasn't ready. I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to be this person. I didn’t even know who she was or what she needed. I had no answers. After countless long discussions, we decided to wait. We wanted to understand my diagnosis thoroughly and have a concrete treatment plan ready before broadening our circle. My mind buzzed with questions. How did I get here? What comes next? What do we tell our daughters? My breast care nurse was incredibly supportive during this period, highlighting the importance of honesty with children and how it can reduce their fear. She pointed us towards resources like the Fruitfly Collective, which runs a Parenting with Cancer coaching program - a godsend for navigating cancer while raising kids. It took us two months after my diagnosis to feel ready. Telling our daughters was hands down the hardest conversation of my life. We chose a moment right after their exams to minimize the impact on their academics. We sat down together, ensuring it was a calm environment where they could absorb and inquire freely about the situation. We strived to be as open and honest as possible, avoiding any gaps that might lead to worse imaginations or fears. The girls, aged 11, 12, and 16, each processed the news differently. Our eldest had a slight understanding, given a close friend’s recent diagnosis, but the younger ones were visibly scared, worried primarily about the forthcoming changes, especially concerning my appearance. In the weeks that followed, their questions kept coming, and by then, armed with more knowledge and understanding, I could respond with clarity, hopefully easing their anxieties. To keep our wider circle informed, my husband and brother set up WhatsApp groups to update friends and family. This allowed us to control the flow of information and shielded me from the pressure of immediate responses post-surgery. It was a relief not to feel rushed into communicating until I was ready. Losing my hair to chemotherapy was when my battle became visibly evident to the wider world. That's when I decided to share my journey on social media. It was tough; it made my illness undeniable and public, taking away the last bit of control I had over who knew. However, it also provided a platform to advocate for regular self-checks and possibly support someone else going through a similar ordeal. For anyone out there grappling with how to break such heavy news to loved ones, remember, it’s okay to take your time. Lean on the resources available through cancer charities, they can offer guidance and support as you navigate this challenging path. Here’s a little advice if you’re trying to explain cancer to children:
🗣 Use simple language and keep explanations relevant to what’s happening now. ❤️ Clarify that cancer isn’t contagious; you can still hug, kiss, and be close. 🔎 Be honest about what you know and what you don’t. Commit to finding answers together. ❓ Let your children’s questions guide the discussion, showing them it’s safe to express how they feel. 🏫 Informing their schools can equip teachers to provide additional support.
Talking to family and friends about a cancer diagnosis is different for everyone, some conversations bring comfort, while others feel overwhelming. If you’ve been through it, I’d love to hear about your experience. What helped? What was the hardest part? Feel free to share in the comments or reach out... sometimes, just knowing we’re not alone in this makes all the difference.
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