If your child has a scan coming up and the whole house feels tense, you're not imagining it. That particular dread that builds in the days before an MRI or CT has a name: scanxiety. It's so common among childhood cancer families that researchers and clinicians use the term routinely.
While naming it doesn't make it disappear, it does mean you're not alone in feeling it—and you’re certainly not stuck with those feelings. These strategies for kids with cancer (and their parents) are a good step in managing scan anxiety.

Scanxiety Strategies For Kids and Teens
Younger children often dread the physical experience of scanning — the noise, the stillness required, the IV, the enclosed space. Teens carry all that, plus understanding what the scan is looking for.
It’s tough no matter how old your child is. It’s uncomfortable, they’re worried about feeling pain, getting poked and prodded, and worst of all, imagining all the bad news they could hear afterward.
Here’s what can help calm their nerves when a scan is coming up:
- Talk about the scan honestly, at the right level. Vague reassurances ("it'll be fine!") can actually increase anxiety for kids who sense the adults around them are nervous too. Simple but honest framing — "the doctors want to see how your body is doing" — often lands better than glossing over things.
- Give them some control. Let your child pick a comfort item to bring, choose the music playing during the scan if the facility allows it, or decide what you'll do together afterward. Go get ice cream. Small choices matter when so much feels out of their hands.
- Practice beforehand. For kids who struggle with the MRI environment, some hospitals offer practice runs or child life specialists who walk them through what to expect. In general, it’s a good idea to ask for a calm, kid-friendly explanation from the nurse or technician.
- Name the feeling. For older kids and teens, simply acknowledging "this is hard and anyone would feel scared in your situation,” goes a long way.
Scanxiety Strategies For Parents
Going through a scan as a child is one thing, but watching your child go through it is an anxiety all its own. It’s no less real or important to manage. Dealing with your own fears while trying to be that anchor for your child is exhausting. It can wear you down long before the scan comes.
So what can parents do about it?
- Find your own outlet. Whether that's talking to another parent who gets it, writing it down, or stepping outside for ten minutes, your feelings need somewhere to go that isn't directly onto your child. Identify activities that help alleviate anxiety, even if it’s as simple as bringing a notebook or a fidget toy.
- Limit the pre-scan spiral. It's natural to mentally rehearse outcomes, but hours of worst-case thinking won't change the results. Some parents find it helps to set a mental boundary — a specific time to worry, then redirect.
- Lean on your team. Nurses, social workers, and child life specialists at your treatment center have supported families through this many times. You don't have to white-knuckle it alone.
When the Scan Is Over — But the Waiting Isn't
The scan itself is one thing, but for many families, the anxiety doesn't peak there. It peaks in the days between the scan and the results. That window can feel completely unbearable.
Try to build in something to look forward to during the wait — a low-key plan that doesn't require you to be "on." Staying in routine helps, even when it feels hollow. And it's okay to tell people close to you that you're in a hard stretch and may need some grace.
When Results Bring Difficult News
Sometimes scans deliver the exact news you were dreading. There's no technique that makes that easier, and it would be wrong to suggest otherwise.
What's true is that you don't have to process it alone, and you don't have to have the right words for your child immediately. It's okay to say, "We just found out something hard, and we're going to figure it out together."
Together is the key there. You’re not alone in this, and your child isn’t, either. You have a team behind you — the care team, the close friends, the communities you’re part of — and that matters, especially on the hardest days.


