In the past few days, I've reached out to caregivers—people taking care of a loved one going through cancer—or they have reached out to me. A few days ago, a woman contacted me to say that her mother had recently been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and that she thought my blog would be an amazing source of information and comfort. And yesterday, a man left a comment on one of my posts to express his appreciation for my blog, as he cares for a family member fighting cancer.

I realized that although I've written many posts about and for caregivers, it may not be easy for people to find the posts most relevant to them. So I've brought together related content in this compendium and created a new section on my Categories page. It focuses on helpful information for caregivers as they support a loved one and try to take care of their own needs as well as advice for all of us who care about the caregivers.

Often before you find yourself as a caregiver, you are a partner, parent, child, friend or close person learning that a loved one is facing cancer or some other illness. It can be challenging to cope with your own feelings of sadness and worry, and you may feel at a loss for words in responding to your loved one. Reaching out offers suggestions on what to say to someone who has recently been diagnosed with cancer or another illness, such as "I’m not sure what to say, but I want you to know that I care" and "I’m sorry to hear that you are going through this."

I expanded on this idea in How to talk to someone who has cancer. I was inspired by a post by Nicky Newman, who had incurable stage 4 breast cancer (and has, sadly, since passed away). She had published a post How to Support a Newly Diagnosed Cancer Hooman; I liked her advice and that of her readers, so I repackaged it, along with my own reflections. The suggestions for supporting someone newly diagnosed with cancer include these: acknowledge that being diagnosed with cancer sucks, don't predict the future, and stick with them for the long haul.

It can be a big adjustment to see a loved one go from healthy to ill. My post Spoon theory—a concept Christine Miserando created to help a friend understand what it's like to have the chronic illness Lupus—explains that the difference between being sick and being healthy is the amount of energy someone has to spend on everyday activities. We never know how many "spoons" (stores of energy) people have and how much effort it takes to do the smallest things.

Over the past 3½ years of writing Jenesis, people have asked me for guidance on supporting cancer patients, some they knew only a little, some they knew well, and some they were supporting from a distance. Supporting a cancer patient offers tips for supporting someone you know a little, such as a neighbour or colleague, as well as for supporting a close loved one. In the former case, a book, a care package or a pillow along with a card may be appropriate. In the latter case, I recommend listening and validating, making offers of help specific, and staying in touch. Supporting a loved one from a distance offers practical tips based on research and my own experience of being supported during my cancer treatment, often by people who weren't able to be physically present in my life. Some supports that can be provided from a distance are ordering food for your loved one, setting a schedule for reaching out, or reading to them.

Individuals coping with a debilitating illness can feel like a burden, especially when they can no longer do for themselves or others what they did in the past. You are valuable provides examples of behaviours someone might exhibit if they feel like a burden. While such emotions are understandable and should be validated, you may also wish to assure them that they are valued. You could say, "You are still valuable, and contribute more than you may realize"; "We all need help sometimes—and that’s OK"; or "You are valuable simply because you exist."

Early in my cancer journey, I came to appreciate the difficulty of being the one who loves the person going through cancer. I realized that my upbeat approach to cancer—no matter how sincere—may have made others feel that they didn't have permission to be sad or scared or stressed. In Permission to feel all emotions, I shared this observation from the Canadian Cancer Society: "Family and caregivers can also feel lonely. They can feel as though they’ve lost their best friend or that they have no one to talk to about what they’re going through. They may feel overwhelmed by new responsibilities. They may feel like they don’t have time to see friends or do activities they enjoy. They may also feel overlooked by the healthcare team or family members and friends, who tend to focus on the person with cancer." In this post, I provided a list of emotions associated with cancer and my reflections on the extent to which I had felt these feelings and my sense of how those around me were experiencing these same sentiments.

As the Canadian Cancer Society says, caring for an ill loved one can leave you feeling lonely. It may be helpful to read the stories of other caregivers, as I shared in my post In your words: cancer's impact on loved ones. The stories reflect the grief experienced by people who have lost a loved one to cancer but also offer a glimmer of hope. It can be helpful to realize that you're not alone and that your emotions are normal. For example, one man who supported two loved ones going through cancer said that he felt "Overwhelmed at first, then terrified as we learned more, then exhausted."

Still, it's best not to think too far into the future, imagining a worst-case scenario. As I explained in The what-if tree, the what-if tree has a sturdy trunk with strong roots at the bottom—that’s the present moment. As you climb the what-if tree, with each branching what-if scenario, the branches get thinner and your footing gets shakier. At some point, it’s not useful to think that far ahead.

It can be helpful to hold onto stories of people who have faced a similar challenge and overcome it. As I suggested in my post Overcoming, we often hear only one part of the story: the beginning or the end, and, even less often, the middle. There is value in seeing the full arc of someone's experience of living with cancer.

Few of us are prepared to be caregivers. As I shared in Caregiver activation, a study that looked at caregiver activation (how prepared one is to assume the role of caregiver) concluded that supporting caregivers in gaining knowledge, skills and confidence to provide care to a loved one may improve their own well‐being. So seek and ask for the help you need.

Early in my cancer journey, I was grateful for the support people extended to my loved ones. One friend made lasagna and cookies for my family while I was in the hospital having surgery to deal with ovarian cancer. Another took my daughter out for coffee. And a third sent a gift box with goodies for the whole family to enjoy and a card addressed to all of us by name. In Caring for the caregivers, I encouraged readers to remember the family and friend caregivers in our lives—the people who are caring for ill loved ones while grappling with their own emotions, such as sadness, fear and guilt.

In April 2022, on National Caregiver Day—a national awareness campaign led by Carers Canada—I shared my observations on the challenges faced by caregivers. I also included a few statements from Carers Canada about the particular challenges faced by caregivers who are also employed: "35% of the workforce is juggling work and unpaid care responsibilities. Employee caregivers are at higher risk of mental and physical health issues; almost 1 in 5 will experience these challenges. They are also predisposed to decreased morale and social isolation, and the pressures of caring for a loved one while meeting other responsibilities can impact their performance at work."

So, as I suggested in Family matters, the next time you ask someone how their ill family member is doing, follow it up with a question about how they are doing—the caregivers need as much support as the patients, perhaps even more.