Be gentle with yourself and those around you.
In October 2020, I was diagnosed with nasopharyngeal cancer. After a lump on my neck didn’t go away, I called my primary care doctor. It took 8 weeks to see him and during that time the lump kept growing and my anxiety did too. After searching my symptoms on the internet (not recommended!) I was prepared for the possibility that it was cancer -- I had even practiced receiving the diagnosis and how I would respond with questions. I can now say from experience, you’re never really prepared to hear those words come out of your doctor’s mouth. When he told me I had cancer, it was like a punch in the gut. My cheeks got hot. I was sitting down but my knees got weak. Everything around me felt like it was melting. I wanted to cry. It felt like I was literally knitting myself together and pulling at every strand so that I did not completely fall apart right there and then. I took a deep breath and exhaled, then I cleared my throat and began asking what the next steps were and who I had to see.
When I got home from my appointment it hit me in another wave. As I walked in the front door, I was greeted by my husband, son, and my dad (my younger kids were in their room.) My eyes immediately watered as I looked over to my husband. My son and husband hugged me and I finally broke down in their arms as I told them I had stage 3 cancer. We all cried together for a few minutes. I pulled myself together and I shared that I had my oncologist appointment, my radiology appointment, and dental oncology appointment all set. I immediately saw their shock and their relief in knowing “yes we have a plan.” I didn’t have it in me to talk to my girls that night. I just hugged them extra tight.
When I think of that moment and the terrifying period after, I always come back to my littlest kids. At the time of diagnosis my kids were 5, 7, and 19 (now 6, 8, and 20). My husband’s mother passed when he was 5 from metastatic breast cancer. He remembers being frightened and worried about her. He knew something was wrong but didn’t have the information he needed to cope at the time. Our daughters already knew that something was up with me because I was going to the doctors a lot more often. We needed to tell them, even though we knew it would be hard. It went something like this:
“You may have noticed that mommy has been going to the doctors a lot recently. Mommy is sick and she is going to be taking some very strong medicine that will make her feel tired. The medicine may also change the way mommy looks. She may lose weight or may lose her hair. Mommy is also going to be getting something called radiation and that will also help to get her better.”
In the period after my initial diagnosis, I learned a lot about myself and about my kids. It is so hard to parent when you are going through so much. Here are some things that I learned that might help you:
Be honest with your children. Tell them, at their level, what’s going on. Don’t overshare and let their questions guide you. Answer them honestly but if you don’t know the answer, it is o.k. to say “I don’t know.”
Tell the school. We were in the middle of the pandemic, so I was homeschooling my kids but I let their teachers know what was going on and they put me in contact with our district’s counselor. We were lucky that each of my daughters met with the school counselor for weekly sessions. Our teachers were great. I felt supported and they understood when assignments were late or if the girls were acting out on zoom.
Give your children grace, patience, extra hugs, and all the love you can muster. When I was in the thick of treatment, I noticed that my girls were super clingy. Now, even after chemo and radiation has ended, they are still going through a lot of big emotions… and it can be hard. Heck, I don’t even handle my big emotions all that well at times. Your kids may act out more or even regress a bit. Have patience with them and give them extra long hugs when you can.
Listen to your kids. Be present if they want to share their feelings and don’t force them if they aren’t ready. If they do share some of the heaviness that they carry, thank them.
Don’t be scared to do something silly. I always put on a dance song and have a 3 minute dance party (if you are too tired to dance you can be the audience and cheer on the dancer).
Give yourself grace. You are a human going through something incredibly difficult. You are going to make some mistakes and that’s o.k. Your children need to see that you are human. When your kids see you taking care of yourself, this teaches them to listen to their own body, to be graceful with themselves, and to acknowledge their own needs. When you make a mistake (and you will, remember you’re human), what’s important is how we handle our mistakes. Our children are watching us and while they may not always listen, they do emulate and copy what we do. So when we handle our mistakes, this teaches them how to handle theirs. When you are exhausted and snap at one of your kids, it's o.k. to take a breath and realize that you are human. Get on their level. I usually crouch down so I am eye to eye with them. I apologize, give a hug and move on. Really that is something we should be doing anyway, but a good reminder when there are so many big emotions in the house.
Since my diagnosis, I’ve been learning a lot of lessons that I didn’t ask to learn. What I come back to time, and time again, is something I probably knew before: be gentle with yourself and those around you. We all deserve it.
Monica Vazquez is a mom of three, has a PhD in Immunology and loves to learn. Monica was diagnosed with stage 3 nasopharyngeal cancer in February 2021. She is currently four months out of treatment and focusing on her family.