You're sitting under harsh fluorescent lights, gripping your child's hand so tightly your knuckles ache. The anxiety that's been gnawing at you for weeks now feels suffocating—you'd been waiting for the doctor to call with test results, but instead, they asked you to come in.
And there, in that sterile exam room that smells like disinfectant and fear, you hear the word that's been lurking in the back of your mind since the symptoms started: cancer.
Your world tilts. Where do you even begin? You can barely string together a coherent thought, let alone figure out what to do next.
First, let us say this: we are so deeply sorry. No child should face cancer. No parent should have to hear those words.
If you're reading this because you've just received this devastating news, know that you are not walking this path alone. Thousands of families have stood exactly where you're standing right now, and while each cancer journey is different, you don't have to figure it out in isolation.
Your child's medical team needs to explain everything in terms you can understand. Please don't feel embarrassed about asking them to repeat information, slow down, or ditch the medical jargon. When you're in shock, even simple concepts can feel impossible to grasp.
Ask the questions that matter most: What's happening next? Which tests come first? What does the treatment timeline look like?
Getting clarity on these basics helps transform the terrifying unknown into concrete, manageable steps.
Forget the idea that you need to be “strong enough” to handle this alone. You don't, and you shouldn't try. Your family, friends, neighbors, and community members want to help—let them.
You'll need people for the practical stuff (bringing meals, driving to appointments, watching siblings) and the emotional heavy lifting, too. Pick one trusted person to be your communicator. They can field phone calls from worried relatives, coordinate food deliveries, and send updates to your broader network while you focus on your child.
Cancer treatment comes with mountains of paperwork and, unfortunately, significant costs. Ask your care team to connect you immediately with a financial counselor—every major pediatric oncology center has specialists who help families navigate insurance claims, payment plans, and grant opportunities.
Keep everything in one place: medical reports, test results, prescription lists, appointment schedules, and every important contact number. Future you will be grateful for this organization when you're sleep-deprived and overwhelmed.
Your instinct is to pour every ounce of energy into your child. That makes perfect sense—you love them fiercely. But here's the truth: your child needs you healthy and present for what could be a very long journey ahead.
This means eating actual meals, not just surviving on hospital vending machine coffee. It means sleeping when you can, even if it's just power naps in uncomfortable hospital chairs. It means saying yes when someone offers to help, because accepting that casserole isn't selfish, it's strategic.
It’s perfectly okay not to know everything.
Your job today is showing up for your child, asking questions when you're confused, and taking things one day at a time. The medical team will guide you through each phase, and you'll gradually build confidence as your child's strongest advocate.
More kids than ever before not only beat cancer but return to everything they love: school, sports teams, sleepovers, and all the chaotic fun of childhood. Take this journey one day at a time, lean heavily on the people who care about you, and remember that healing happens.
You've got this, and we're cheering you on every step of the way.