Talking to family and friends about cancer diagnoses

After leaving the breast care clinic, my husband and I debated when to share our devastating news with close family and friends. He believed that telling them early would mean having more support when we needed it most, especially with something this difficult. But I hesitated, I didn’t want to pull anyone into our panic and uncertainty until we fully understood what we were dealing with.

I knew that the moment I started sharing, there would be endless questions and an overwhelming sense of pressure. Everyone would be hovering, waiting for me to tell them how I felt and what I needed. But the truth was, I wasn’t ready to open that floodgate. 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.

We talked about it for weeks on end, and we agreed in the end not to tell anyone until we got our head around the diagnoses ourselves first. To do so we needed to know more about the cancer and the treatment plan before we can start telling people. How did this happen? How did we end up here? And where do we go from here? And most importantly, what should I/we tell our daughters?

My MacMillan breast care nurse explained to us that children are generally less frightened if they know what’s happening, even if they don’t fully understand. Gave us few tips on when and how to tell them and introduced me to Fruitfly Collective - which ran the Parenting with Cancer coaching program to help parents navigate their cancer journey while raising children.

Once the diagnosis was complete and we had a treatment plan in place, we began telling close family and friends. There was no easy way to tell anyone that I had cancer, but the hardest thing I ever had to do was tell our daughters. It added an extra layer of stress and anxiety to an already traumatic situation, followed by the challenge of navigating cancer treatment while raising a family. I had one daughter and two stepdaughters, aged 11, 12, and 16 at the time of my diagnosis.

So when my husband and I decided to tell them two months after my diagnosis, we knew they were old enough to grasp the severity of the word "cancer" but didn’t yet have any experience or understanding of the impact that cancer could have on a person or the family.

We thought long and hard about what to say, how and when to say it, and how the news might affect their lives at that moment. Our eldest was going through her GCSEs and the youngest was going through her SATs exams at the time, so we waited until after they finished their exams before we sat all three of them down and told them together, giving them the space to ask as many questions as they needed.

We chose to be open and honest with our daughters because we felt if there are gaps in our story, they are most likely going to fill the gaps themselves by jumping to worst case scenarios and speculating over what that might be. Telling my daughter that I have breast cancer is by far the hardest thing I ever have to do in my life.

We told them that I had found a lump and that it was a bad lump containing cancer. We also explained how important it was that we’d found it early, so it was treatable, and that doctors could do something about it quickly. They were obviously very distressed and saddened by the news but also very inquisitive. For weeks after sharing the news, they processed it by asking more and more questions. By then, I had enough answers to respond openly and honestly, which helped ease their anxiety.

Our eldest understood very clearly the meaning of the diagnosis as a school friend had been recently diagnosed with cancer. The younger ones, however, were more fearful, not necessarily able to articulate their worries but clearly concerned about the changes they might see in me due to treatment. My appearance, in particular, was at the forefront of their concerns.

I encouraged them to talk to anyone they needed - close friends, family, or teachers - but I also wanted them to feel comfortable speaking directly to me. It was really important that they could tell me how they felt without fear of upsetting me. It helped me to help them understand.

With our family and close friends, my husband and my brother created a couple of whatsapp groups before I went into surgery to help keep everyone updated. This meant I didn’t have to respond to messages immediately after surgery, allowing me to focus on recovery without feeling overwhelmed.

It’s hard when you are feeling so ill and know that everyone cares and wants to know you are going to be ok. But sometimes you just do not feel ok, and the thought of having to put on a brave face is too much, so don’t feel too guilty if you don’t reply to the messages or return the phone calls straight away, take your time and be kind to yourself. You are dealing with enough yourself and need to focus on you and prioritise you. I know it sounds harsh and maybe a bit selfish but this is what I wish I could tell the newly diagnosed me who spent a lot of time worrying about upsetting others.

It wasn’t until I lost my hair to chemotherapy that I shared my news on my social media platforms. I didn’t want to have to repeat my story every time I ran into an old friend, a fellow parent at the school gate or a work colleague. I found that losing my hair was one of the most difficult parts of my cancer journey because it became a public announcement of my illness. The choice of who to tell and when was no longer mine. But if sharing my story helped raise awareness about the importance of self-checks or made someone else going through a similar experience feel less alone, then it meant something.

If you are still in shock at the news of your diagnoses and worried about breaking it to your loved ones, please know you are not alone. Lean on the cancer charities out there to support you navigate your diagnoses and treatment journey.

Here are some tips that I hope you find helpful when talking to children about cancer:

• Use simple, clear language and short sentences.
• Keep information relevant to the current situation, rather than things that may happen in the future.
• If you have young children, let them know that cancer is not like having germs that you cab catch - you can still sit close, hug and kiss.
• Let them know that they can always ask you questions and talk to you about how they feel.
• Be honest and tell them that you may not know all the answers to their questions, but you will try to find out and will tell them when you know.
• Allow the conversation to be directed by your children’s reactions and the questions they ask.
• It may be worth telling your child’s nursery, school or college as teachers and staff may be able to support them.