When I was diagnosed with triple-negative breast cancer, my logical and medical mind went into overdrive, trying to process everything that was suddenly rapidly coming at me. My family members “circled the wagons” with the basic message, “Whatever you need, tell us.”
Each chemo treatment unfolded in a familiar rhythm/ pattern:
There I was, with my rolling bag of necessities, giant IV poles, water jug, a salad without dressing, headphones for music, and my husband and sister with their laptops, sitting at my side and continuing the normal daily operations of work life.
As I write this almost 7 years after my cancer treatment, I reflect on my loved ones' caregiving journey with the benefit of hindsight. I have spoken to many close family members of cancer patients, both my family and those of others. I have also been in that same role of caring for a loved one with cancer when my mother went through her cancer journey 25 years ago. Through all of this, I have learned about the universal challenges caregivers face, often navigating fears and uncertainties while striving to provide support.
The biologically wired responses to danger and “bad things” are the same for all of us: Fight, Flight, Freeze.
I spent much time with my mom in the freeze zone, but I also had my moments in the fight and flight zones. She was diagnosed when I was 16 years old.
As I write this, I consider all of this through the lens of my lived experiences, my years in healthcare, and my love for science.
The sympathetic nervous system holds the codes for survival instinct in humans: Fight, Flight, Freeze. It is about surviving, not necessarily thriving. Living in fear is still only surviving from that viewpoint.
I would love to remind us that those programmed responses can be recognized and regulated. This holds the potential of living a fearless, vibrant life through conscious choice by regulating that nervous system.
This regulation allows us to activate our parasympathetic nervous system, which allows us to rest, digest, and create responses by inserting the option for choice between stimulus and reaction.
Notice the differentiation between the words response and reaction. One is chosen; the other is automatic.
That time before the reaction is naturally short at first; simply recognizing that dynamic builds that opportunity for choosing a response and stretching that zone where you can choose.
Before we get too far ahead, let’s establish a baseline from the eyes of a close family member walking beside their loved one through cancer. Here are the few things I hear consistently:
- I have to wait until time passes, live with the fear, and wait and hope there will be a time when I’m not afraid for my loved one every time they have a doctor’s visit.
- I can do nothing to help relieve the fear I feel for my loved one; I hope it goes away someday.
- I feel helpless watching it all happen and unable to do anything about it.
- I feel guilty when I go on a business trip or do something I enjoy.
- They are the ones that need support, so I’m fine.
- I have to buckle down, do what needs to be done, and fix this.
- I withdraw to protect myself.
- How could I possibly smile at this time? What will others think?
These feelings are valid in the moment but may not represent the bigger picture. Re-read those statements as if your best friend had said them. Would you accept that reality unquestioningly for someone you care about?
When we examine and evaluate, we discover options that allow us to do better for ourselves and our loved ones.
One of the most powerful tools for creating possibility is reframing the language we use with ourselves, both out loud and in our heads.
Reframing Language
When we discuss these concepts from a scientific perspective, I often nod in agreement. Yet, in the beginning, I only knew that information at a purely cognitive level. I didn’t know how to act on it. In the spirit of learning to actually live this, here is what I do when I restructure and reframe my language. One simple word replacement. Drumroll, please!
Replace the word “should” with the word “could” and adjust that sentence accordingly.
Take a moment to think through the “should” statements in your life. I will give you 4 here:
- I should wake up earlier and exercise
- They should know better
- I should be grateful
- This shouldn’t feel this hard
Do you see how using the word “should” carries a judgment?
Something about it signals something is wrong and places focus on that aspect…
Let’s try the exact same phrases with the word “could.”
- I could wake up earlier and exercise. (How could I make this happen? Do I want to?)
- They could understand this better. (Do I have the bandwidth to engage them in conversation?)
- I could be grateful. (What would it take to notice glimmers?)
- This could feel easier. (What are some ideas for how I could bring a little ease to this situation?)
Do you see how the word “could” carries with it POSSIBILITY and CHOICE to take action on what could be done?
I could not help myself and followed up each statement with a question about an action I could take to explore this. It comes out as if by inertia.
“Should” makes it wrong; “could” makes it a choice. It makes it actionable.
Consider a few more ways of framing reality:
- Are you playing to win or playing “not to lose”?
Can you feel a slight variation in those choices?
- Are you running towards life or away from doom?
The same action will feel different based on the current lens through which you view it.
The most magnificent gift of being human is that we can switch that lens; when we understand and choose, we take different actions.
How do we flip the script, you ask?
Remember the sympathetic nervous system from the beginning of the article? We are wired to survive; our automatic response is for protection, not for possibility, vibrancy, potential, and joy.
We are wired to survive, but to live fully, we must CHOOSE it.
This can only be done when we understand and accept that life is an inherently dangerous experience.
There are accidents, natural disasters, dangerous animals, and mistakes. All of this is ever-present, whether you have cancer or not.
When we choose to pre-prime ourselves for disappointment, thinking that if that disappointment comes, we can survive it better, we cheat ourselves out of the vibrancy we can find now.
The truth is, no amount of preparation will erase the sacred pain of loving and losing someone.
Every single one of us either lived that experience already or will live that in the future.
What happens when we prepare ourselves for pain and imagine various things? We live in that pain now and maybe we live it again in the future.
We double our grief, thinking it will serve us.
The only benefit of that “preparation” is being able to say to yourself, “See, I knew this was going to happen.”
Does this make it hurt any less? That is debatable and a CHOICE you make.
What I realized is that the imaginary pain of pre-priming myself for pain and disappointment can erase the good I can find at the moment before any of the actual pain steps into reality.
Can you see that side of it now?
That’s my goal here: show you the options and leave the conscious choice up to you.
Actionable Strategies for Caregivers
If you want to know more about regulating the nervous system and moving from survival to vibrancy, here are some options to consider:
1. Share Gratitude Daily
Gratitude has this gentle way of shifting your focus, even when the weight of the world feels heavy. Taking a moment each day to acknowledge what you’re thankful for—even the tiniest things—can create ripples of hope. Share those moments with your loved one. Maybe it’s as simple as saying, “I’m grateful for this time together,” or jotting it downquietly in a journal. Gratitude doesn’t erase the hard parts, but it brings a soft light into the room when things feel dim.
2. Take Micro-Breaks to Breathe
When life feels like it’s pulling you in every direction, even the smallest pause can make a difference. A few deep breaths, a step outside to feel the sun on your face, or just a moment to sit still can remind you that you’re here, right now. Box breathing—inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for 4, hold for 4—has been a lifeline for me. It’s like hitting reset on a stormy mind. These tiny breaks help you stay grounded, even in the chaos.
3. Connect with Nature
There’s something about nature that just knows how to hold you. A quiet walk in the park, the feel of the breeze on your skin, or even sitting by a window filled with plants can create calm where you didn’t think it was possible. If you can, share these moments with your loved one—nature doesn’t ask for anything from us, and sometimes, that’s exactly the kind of peace we need.
4. Celebrate Small Wins
The road can feel so long, but every little milestone matters. A good day, a kind word, or a moment of laughter—they all count. Celebrate them. You don’t need a big gesture; even a smile and a “Look at us, we made it through today” can be enough. These small wins are like breadcrumbs leading you toward hope, and when you look back, you’ll realize how much they added up.
5. Let Music Be Your Companion
Music has this magic—it reaches places words can’t. A favorite playlist, a song that touches on the current experience, lightens the mood, or even humming together can create joy and connection. Share it with your loved one, or keep it for yourself during those quiet moments. Let the melody remind you that even in the most challenging times, beauty can be found.
These practices aren’t about fixing everything or pretending things aren’t hard. They’re about creating little pockets of peace and moments of joy, even in the middle of it all. You don’t have to do them perfectly—start where you are. Sometimes, that’s all the resilience you need, and here is the beautiful thing.
The choice is always YOURS!
References
Verywell Health: Parasympathetic Nervous System (PSNS): Role in Body Processes
Positive Psychology: Cognitive Restructuring Techniques for Reframing Thoughts
Harvard Health Publishing: A 20-minute nature break relieves stress
Psychology Today: From Small Steps to Big Wins: The Importance of Celebrating
American Psychiatric Association: The Transformative Power of Music in Mental Well-Being
