When the holiday season rolls around, it’s typically a time of celebration, family, festivities, and love. But for those of us diagnosed with cancer, it can often add another layer of stress and uncertainty on top of everything else we are dealing with.
My breast cancer treatment wrapped up just at the start of the holiday season. I finished my 15 rounds of radiation on November 21. I found I entered the holiday season on one hand, joyous to complete my active treatment and looking forward to our first Christmas with a new grandbaby. That said, I was also grappling with the “after” of treatment. Confused, unmoored, unsure how to move forward. I was also still bald (with just the first bit of duck fluff showing), and as someone who loves to dress up and look fashionable during the holiday season, I was unsure how folks would handle my “new look.” So I fully understand the emotional significance of festive times being overlapped by treatment schedules, medical appointments, and all the emotional fall out that comes with cancer.
Navigating the holiday season for those diagnosed with breast cancer
My first piece of advice for those experiencing this is to not isolate yourself, despite cancer trying its hardest to make you feel alone. Connectivity is a lifeline in these times. With that said, you must also set boundaries throughout the holiday season – it’s absolutely okay to say no. Maybe you don’t have the energy to attend every holiday event. That’s okay. Remember, it’s your health and well-being that come first. This very much depends on where you are with respect to the cancer journey. I have vivid memories of my husband cajoling me into a family brunch two days after hearing I had cancer because he was convinced it would cheer me up. I struggled to keep the tears at bay as the family (who knew nothing) made small talk. I sobbed all the way home in the car.
I was determined during the first holiday season “after treatment” to embrace the season with gratitude for the sake of my children and my new grandbaby. I also chose to live authentically. I ditched the wigs. Went to parties happily sporting my fuzzy head of duck fluff. I never wanted pity from those around me from the day I heard I had cancer, and wanted everyone to see me flat, almost bald, but also healthy and full of life.
My kids were in their twenties when I was diagnosed. They were building their own lives as young adults, but hearing that their mother had cancer rocked their world. To anyone whose parent or loved one is grappling with a cancer diagnosis during this period, remember, your support and presence matter profoundly, even if you feel you can’t do much. It’s not always about finding the right words, but the right actions – like attending appointments and being available when needed.
As a mother navigating this tricky terrain, transparency proved essential and I communicated openly with my family about my diagnosis. I found that talking and sharing my concerns and fears was therapeutic. It helped me to cope, and it gave insights to my family and friends on how they might support me better. My daughter had been living away from home during my treatment phase. She struggled with seeing me lose my hair. So it was an adjustment at holiday time to see me wigless, but it also was a time of acceptance for both of us.
Helping loved ones diagnosed with breast cancer get through the holiday season
To family and friends, I would say this: be there, ask questions, listen, and offer help in practical ways. It’s important to not just focus on the physical well-being of your loved one but to understand their (often shifting) emotional state. You might encounter a different person, like my husband who had to grapple with a sudden change in me that he utterly did not expect. Communication is key, and patience even more so. Holidays can be challenging for families at the best of times. More than ever, work to stay in tune with the person that is navigating the cancer diagnosis. Let them take the lead. Don’t press them to be jolly or to show up to a family gathering or party if they don’t have the energy or don’t feel like socializing.
Be prepared to be flexible. This might mean changing the date or time of a celebration or even having your family gathering on a day that is not the actual holiday. If your loved one is going through active treatment, they may be experiencing side effects like nausea and fatigue. Food tastes differently. So if their appetite is off, or they have to leave the table to go have a nap be considerate. In addition, when someone is going through chemotherapy it is advised that they minimize alcohol consumption or not drink at all to protect their liver. So having a special mocktail or other non-alcoholic options on hand is (always) a good idea.
Avoid giving unsolicited advice or sharing stories about your aunt who sadly died of cancer. Keep things light and cheery. Don’t comment on your loved one’s appearance (yes I know I have a nicely shaped head) (yes, I know I am flat and have a new body type that I am learning to accept). Keep the pitying glances to yourself. This is a time for family togetherness and gratitude. Please, avoid giving “cancer-ish” gifts. I can’t speak for others but the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of my diagnosis with a pink sweatshirt, a “you got this” gift basket, and headscarves.
Know that, what worked for me might not work for everyone. The idea is to find what works best for you and your family. Here’s one thing I would tell anyone who is on a similar journey – educate yourself. Knowledge can often empower and give you a semblance of control in what can feel like a chaotic situation.
It’s a challenging time. Unexpected health issues have a nasty way of disrupting a season of joy and celebration. Just remember, that it’s not about how many festive events you attend, or how perfect the holiday appears. At their heart, holidays are about the spirit of grace, compassion, love and togetherness.
All the rest is just tinsel and wrapping.
