Dealing with other people’s reactions was for me one of the hardest things with the breast cancer diagnosis. Being self-employed, I did not have to tell colleagues, and was fortunate to have more control over who knew when. My husband and I took the opportunity of a 10hour train journey the day after the diagnosis to begin to think about how we would manage the local gossips (amongst other things). The diagnosis was a shock. We needed time to get used to the news ourselves and if there was no need for further treatment after the surgery, I just wanted to get on with my life. I’m not one for a lot of fuss and drama and I felt that I needed to be strong, and pity is horribly weakening. But we needed support, and so we decided to tell close family and a small group of good friends initially. Our daughter and close family needed to be told, but beyond that we decided who to tell based on how supportive and discreet we thought they would be. At this stage it was about putting my needs first, and for us, it was the right decision. We felt supported but not suffocated. We set up a group email where we let people know of any developments and everyone respected our request that they not phone for news, but calls offering encouragement (and occasional presents – I love presents) would be welcome. We asked that people stay in touch and allow us to talk about the cancer if we wanted to, but equally to talk about all the other interesting things happening in everyone’s lives including our own. The friends we told have been amazingly supportive, encouraging and positive.
Bit by bit, the news is slowly spreading. An ex-work colleague found out in a meeting 50 miles away, from another colleague from that part of the country, who had found out from her mother whom I had met once in 1983 who had found out from a friend of my mother’s from another part of the country. Now we are used to the idea ourselves and have an idea of where I am with treatment, we feel better able to cope with the additional attention.
We know now that the surgery appears to have been successful, but there are a few months of chemotherapy, radiotherapy, hormone treatment ahead, all as a ‘preventative and precautionary measure’. Friends and family have proved an essential support and distraction. We have learnt to manage the ones who always say the wrong thing by reminding ourselves that they mean well and avoiding their company when we can’t deal with it. I am learning to be more open with people and read their reactions and am not above reminding people that I would prefer Get Well cards to Sympathy cards. Humour seems to help others cope and reassure them that I’m still me, which has enabled some meaningful conversations rather than awkward pauses that slide into silence.
And of course there are the new friends I am meeting through the hospital appointments and friends of friends who have come forward to offer their support, having experienced cancer in their own lives. It is a new chapter with new characters and it is easier for knowing where to look for the support I need.
