Dearly Diagnosed: Letter to a Cancer Patient

Dearly Diagnosed: Letter to a Cancer Patient

Guest post by Mike Linn. Opinions are those of the author.

Dearly Diagnosed,

Hey.

Cancer, huh? That sucks.

There are a lot of slogans, platitudes, and phrases you’ll hear or have already heard. Some of them will resonate with you more than others. After 6 years of dealing with the disease, the one phrase I constantly reiterate is that cancer just sucks. 

And it’s weird!

Depending on where you are in this process, it might not feel real. You’re probably scared, or confused. You’re almost certainly in shock. You may be optimistic, or defiant, or you might be chilling and waiting for more information. All of these feelings are valid – don’t let anyone else tell you how a cancer diagnosis is supposed to feel. 

There are no rules. Don’t fight your emotions; they exist for a reason.

People are going to tell you “I’m so sorry,” or “you’re so brave,” or “you’ve got this.” People are going to say a lot of crazier things than that. People will tell you about their relatives that got it and died, or the ones that lived. None of those stories really did much for me.

People with no qualifications will tell you how you got your cancer, or even more strangely, why. They’ll also tell you how to cure it -  fad diets, alternative medicine, thoughts and prayers, and this study they read (but don’t understand)! The amount of holistic shamans and weed dealers you know is about to rise exponentially.

A few idiots aside, most of these people are well-intended. Cancer is so common that everyone knows about it and the existential ramifications, but not enough people have an understanding of how overwhelming cancer is or what actually goes into dealing with it on an individual basis. Most people are just trying to protect themselves from thinking about the reality of what it takes to get through this nightmare - and let me tell you, it’s not water fasting, cutting out sugar, or relying on deities you may or may not believe in.

That’s not to knock anyone’s beliefs – if religion is important to you and your loved ones, you should incorporate it into your recovery. Just be ready for everyone to give you their version, whether you believe or not.

Here are some things I think you DO need:

You need a support system, and that starts with a good team at an oncology clinic you can trust. I know it’s fashionable to hate big pharma and (illogically by extension) medical professionals. Still, there are reasons that people have studied for decades to try to help people overcome one of the deadliest diseases in human history. 

You’re about to make many important decisions that will impact your life, and I recommend tossing aside the bias from things you’ve heard on the internet or the news. 

We have experts for a reason, even if they’re not perfect.

Also, the treatments are getting better. That’s not to say they’re easy, but they’re becoming more effective and less toxic each year. If you don’t feel like you’re getting the proper medical care you need from a place near you, please get a second opinion. You need to feel good about the path you’re taking, and you need to advocate for yourself.

The other parts of your support system are the people around you who are willing to help. This might be your spouse, partner, parents, other family, friends, neighbors… whoever they may be, make sure you communicate your needs to them. 

Do not keep your mouth shut. You are not a burden, and you need to advocate for yourself.

There are likely to be assistance programs attached to or associated with the hospital or oncology clinic you go to. These can yield financial aid, informational resources, help with getting to and from appointments, or mental health support & more. Manta Cares is working hard to create accessible resources that are easy to find at the right time for patients at different points of their treatment.

The offerings will vary wildly, and some of them might not be useful to you. Try to figure out what fits your needs, and keep asking. 

YOU NEED TO ADVOCATE FOR YOURSELF.

Go to therapy – at least try it. You can stop going if it doesn’t work for you; it’s not for everyone. Talk to strangers on the internet who share your experience. Find forums, support groups, and watch weird YouTube videos from people who have had cancer.

You don’t have to agree with everyone or do everything you hear, but you can pick up little things from many different places and try them out. Hopefully, some of the good ones stick in your process.

Your mental health is paramount in making it through this thing in reasonable shape.

You also need to be physically kind to yourself and give yourself the best chance of success at whatever treatment or recovery plan you end up with. You’re going to want to hydrate a ton, and get good rest if you can. 

You need to eat food that allows you to get through whatever side effects the disease, stress, and treatment incur. I would advocate for eating whole, healthy foods, but the bottom line is you need calories to get through this. 

A lot of treatments mess with your stomach, and it’s better to eat anything than nothing. Don’t listen to the Sugar Police™ – if you want to have junk food to comfort yourself, that’s the least of your concerns. You’re dealing with cancer.

Along those same lines, try to exercise as much as your body will allow without making you feel miserable during treatment. I would aim to move around in some capacity every day, even if it’s a jog or a walk or stretching on your light days. 

I was lucky – I was able to run and play basketball during my treatments, and I think it helped me both physically and mentally, but everyone is coming from a different starting point and treatment will have different effects on your energy level.

I’m going to stop giving you informational advice right now, because this isn’t a guide on how to get through things. 

This is a starting point and something that you might want to come back to later. Cancer has a way of making everything feel foggy or fuzzy – don’t feel bad if you forget stuff. Ooh, that’s one last point – take notes at appointments. Journal your thoughts. You’ll want to come back to things.

We probably don’t know each other, as it’s a big, big internet, but I promise you I and other people who have shared similar experiences care about you.

At the end of the day, that’s all cancer is. It’s a human experience – even if it’s a really shitty one.

You’re going to have your own way of going about things, and it’s not going to be perfect. You weren’t expected to be perfect in other areas of life either, so don’t start now. 

Just try to give yourself the best chance of making the most of life, whatever that might mean in the context of your diagnosis. There is no good kind of cancer. All cancer sucks. 

It sucks you’re part of this club. I can’t promise you everything is going to be alright, but more often than not, it will be.

Don’t forget to hydrate ♥

About the author: Mike Linn is a writer, athlete, business owner, and now a cancer patient advocate. He was first diagnosed with stage 3c metastatic melanoma at the age of 30 and had a stage 4 recurrence in 2023 at 35. In a better effort to understand the mental health side of being a cancer patient, he began posting content to social media and support groups and has yet to stop talking about his cancer experience both personally and professionally. Mike also loves candy and is determined to dispel the notion that sugar specifically feeds cancer - or he is at least hopeful that research will prove this.

Disclaimer: All content and information provided in connection with Manta Cares is solely intended for informational and educational purposes only.  This content and information is not intended to be a substitute for medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

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