Jacki and John Donaldson
My mom was the first person I called after learning I had breast cancer. She lives in my neighborhood, and I knew she’d run right over and console me. She did.
My husband was the second person I told. He became the first, however, to respond to my every worry, concern, and fear about a disease that would become almost as much his as mine.
John didn’t have a lump in his breast. He didn’t face surgery and all that would follow. But his life would unravel in ways he never could have predicted. In a sense, his job was tougher than mine. He not only had to make sense of cancer for himself, he had to keep me from crumbling. That was no small job.
Neither John nor I know exactly how we got through the first couple of days following our crushing cancer blow. Yet somehow, we did. And now, almost three years later, I realize it was John who propelled us forward during our early days with cancer, the days filled with uncertainty, confusion, and utter disbelief.
Recently, I asked John to talk about his role as breast cancer husband, to share what he’d learned so that others—like you—can benefit. He hadn’t ever given it much thought, he told me. Still, he quickly rattled off all sorts of wisdom. He spilled out volumes of insight—so much it’s hard to narrow down and neatly package into this short SharePost.
With a little effort, I was able to organize John’s advice into a manageable list. And here it is: complete with 10 tips for getting through breast cancer’s first 48 hours.
Please borrow these tips—use them, alter them to fit your needs, and then pass them on.
1) Respond With Compassion
Extreme ranges of emotion are normal following a breast cancer diagnosis. Whether it’s anger, sadness, fear, or downright terror, John says: be compassionate. Compassion is its own emotion. It’s a shared sense of suffering. Consider the pain your partner feels—and try through gentle kindness to alleviate some of it.
2) Follow Her Lead
Each woman handles her diagnosis differently. Some quietly contemplate cancer. Some share freely. Some vent. Others find solace in retreat, silence, even denial. I tend to talk. It’s how I process life when it feels out of control. What I needed during my darkest days was someone to listen. John sensed this and came to my rescue. He followed my lead. It worked like charm.
3) Partner Up When Telling Children
The night of my diagnosis, our oldest child—then three—came into our room crying, “I had a dream mommy’s head broke apart.” Having witnessed the drama in our house, he’d created his own scary scenario. Fortunately, his version was much worse than ours—so we told him the next day: “Mommy has a boo-boo in her booby. Doctors will take it out. Then mommy will take medicine so she can get better.” John and I shared the chore of explaining cancer to our kids. It was a team effort. It worked well that way.
