When One of Us Has Cancer, All of Us Do
What We Don’t Always See — The Toll on the Ones Who Love Us
When I was diagnosed with cancer, everyone asked how I was doing. But no one asked my husband how he was doing. Or my sons. Or my daughter-in-law. The truth is, cancer doesn’t just change the life of the person with the diagnosis, it sends shockwaves through the entire family. And no one is really prepared to deal with the fear and anxiety — not to mention the amount of physical and mental strength needed to make it through.
The Silent Suffering of Loved Ones
• Spouses become caregivers overnight. They hold it together while watching the person they love fight for their life.
• Children, no matter their age, feel helpless and scared. Many don’t know how to ask questions or voice their fears.
• Friends may disappear — not because they don’t care, but because they don’t know what to say or are too overwhelmed to show up.
Meanwhile, we—the ones with cancer—are often so caught in our own whirlwind of decisions, treatments, and exhaustion that we don’t have the energy to check in on them.
And yet they’re hurting too.
I did not realize how much it was worrying my son and husband until both of them said they wished I would stop chemotherapy. It was hard on me. But it was even harder on them. I am sure they were much more worried about me dying than I was at the time….and dying from the chemo not the cancer. I had such a bad reaction to the chemotherapy drugs that I did stop three quarters of the way through. It had been enough for me. They were relieved.
Cancer Changes the Whole Family System
A cancer diagnosis rearranges roles, priorities, and relationships:
A strong parent may now be the one needing help.
A confident spouse might feel like they’re failing because they can’t “fix” it.
Siblings may feel pushed aside, forgotten in the shadow of a crisis.
It’s a lot. And it’s okay to say that.
What Helped My Family (And Might Help Yours)
Here are a few things I wish someone had told us earlier:
1. Let people talk about their feelings — even if they aren’t the patient. Everyone deserves support.
2. Bring in a professional — counselors, social workers, spiritual advisors. Not just for the patient.
3. Ask non-family members for help with logistics. Meals, rides, errands. Every bit off your family’s plate makes room for more emotional breathing space.
4. Name the elephant in the room. “This is hard for all of us.” Just saying that aloud can break the tension.
You’re Not Alone—None of You
If you’re reading this as a loved one of someone with cancer, I see you. Your pain matters. Your exhaustion is real. Your presence and your love are everything. But don’t focus solely on the patient. It’s ok to step away at times and get a short break …. even if it’s just a quiet walk outdoors, a short visit with a close friend, or a 30 minute massage. You deserve to get some downtime.
And if you’re the patient, maybe this is a gentle nudge to ask how they are doing too. You don’t have to carry it all, and neither do they. Ask them how they are feeling. They might just open up if given the opportunity. You might even be able to muster up the strength to make a small joke. That old saying “laughter is the best medicine” is really true.
Therapists can make a big difference for the patient and the family. Many provide telehealth sessions, so no need to wear anyone out getting to and from appointments. The important point is to get everyone talking.
I’d love to hear from you.
If you’re a patient, what has your family struggled with most?
If you’re a caregiver, what do you wish people understood?
Drop a comment or reply—I read every one.
This is important, thank you for sharing!
This is timely for me. Thank you. We are two weeks out of treatment and I think the trauma is coming down on me all at once. I cared for my son for eight months of treatment and it felt like an honor to be by his side every step of the way. I’m now getting hit by a tidal wave of exhaustion and realizing how much my world changed while I narrowed my focus on him. I feel lonely and sad and a bit lost. It’s a disorienting experience. I never want to complain after what he’s been through—it’s so beyond unfair. Thank you for giving me permission to share and the incredible empathy and kindness you’re demonstrating while navigating your cancer treatment. It’s such a testament to your beautiful heart.