As I continue to work with clients as a psychotherapist and coach, I am especially struck by the similarities of reactions to #stayinghome and the uncertainty of Covid-19, with the day-to-day life of a person affected by cancer.

For those in treatment with a new cancer diagnosis, cancer survivors, or those learning to live with a metastatic diagnosis, the emotional, physical and social implications of a restricted existence are quite familiar.

1.     Feeling Isolated

Cancer can be very isolating. Going out in public, being in social situations, seeing family or even working with groups of people can put someone with cancer at risk due to weakened immune systems from treatment or disease process.  People with cancer often feel alone as they learn to adapt to their changing physical and emotional needs.  There’s an unspoken expectation if they “look good” then they “feel good”, but this isn’t always the case and isolation becomes easier than explaining what’s really going on. Even someone with a history of cancer may feel they suffered through their experience alone without the complete understanding of those around them.

2.     Wearing a Mask

Anyone with a compromised immune system may have been instructed to wear a mask around others.  This precaution is common for people receiving chemo.  For those who have worn a mask, it may feel as though the blinking lights are flashing, “I’m sick, watch out!”  It’s an announcement of their physical condition they may not want to broadcast.  Not to mention it’s also hot and bothersome.

3.     Reaction to New Physical Symptoms

For someone with cancer in their past or present, every twinge or new discomfort often raises the question, “Is the cancer back?” There’s a constant battle to contain or mitigate the worry with what’s reasonable and rational.

4.     Work Implications

A cancer diagnosis or the ongoing fatigue of metastatic disease may mean taking a leave from work, working from home, adjusting work hours, or even quitting or finding a new job.  This can affect financial stability, home responsibilities, and confidence.

5.     Uncertainty and Fear of Dying

Uncertainty. Cancer is all about uncertainty. Will treatment work? Will it come back? How long will I feel this way? When will things be normal again? Uncertainty is the name of the game. Cancer also brings fear of death front and center.  The biggest uncertainty. It’s a filter that cancer leaves behind.  One’s own mortality comes into view in a new way.  Even if the cancer is gone, that uncertainty, that fear, fear that it’ll come back, fear of dying, is often just under the surface.  With fear also comes grief.  The sadness and anger toward a situation over which we have no control.

How is Covid-19/Coronavirus Different?  It’s a Shared Experience. 

Instead of dealing with it alone, it is socially acceptable to talk, laugh, cry or be angry about it.  In fact, it is a lot of what people are talking about right now.  People are having to be more flexible and accommodating about roles, responsibilities, and routines.

The fears get normalized because they are everyone’s fears. Is that cough corona or allergies?  Was that a hot flash or do I have a fever? Knowing that others may be dealing with the same thing opens up communication.

People reach out for connection because it’s a shared experience. Wearing a mask now isn’t a negative announcement, it’s a sign of social responsibility. There are places to ask about physical symptoms that are non-judgmental and informative.

Places of business are having to figure out how to work online, remotely, and with a fragmented staff.  I’m hearing of many places that are offering flexibility for parents trying to home school, etc. People out of work are looking for financial support.

As we see the numbers rise in our own areas and around the world, the fear of dying becomes a little more real.  People are looking at advanced directives, wills, next of kin, ahead of time. Decisions that are often left until it’s almost too late.

We have always lived with uncertainty. We were just too busy to notice or acknowledge it unless something like cancer shined a big, glaring light on it. The only certainty is change.

When this is all over and our lives begin to settle into whatever “normal” becomes, I hope this shared experience sheds a little light on people dealing with cancer, chronic diseases, and mental illness. I hope people work to stay connected, check on those that are isolated, empathize with others, normalize the fear and anxiety, and offer flexibility to those in need. Let this experience change you.