Why Patients With Cancer Need Each Other

If you’re reading this blog, you are probably a patient with cancer or a caretaker for a patient. My experience with small lymphocytic lymphoma for the past 16 years has taught me many lessons.

I have been on both sides of this coin. When I was first diagnosed, I benefited from talking to others with a similar diagnosis. Those conversations helped calm me down and allowed me to take a deep breath. They gave me a sense of steadiness and helped me feel more confident facing whatever came next.

I am an open person and shared what I was going through with friends and even acquaintances when appropriate. Talking about my diagnosis helped me more than I expected. Different people had connections I may not have had —specialists in the field or insights from others they knew with the same diagnosis. But beyond information, what mattered most was connection.

Research supports what many of us discover instinctively. Organizations like the American Cancer Society emphasize the importance of peer support, noting that connecting with others who have cancer can reduce feelings of isolation and anxiety. There is something uniquely comforting about speaking with someone who truly understands — not just intellectually, but emotionally — what you are going through.

I also found an outlet in writing. This blog, in many ways, became part of my healing process. I like to write because it helps me process information. Personally, I usually feel better after I write about what I’m going through. I also keep a journal for the same reason.

Research on cancer patients communicating with each other highlights that peer support is crucial for combating the isolation experienced by over 50% of patients. When I read that these interactions with support groups or informal networks, provided unique emotional, informational and social benefits, I knew I could relate. It was different than interacting with healthy friends or medical professionals who just can’t seem to fully understand.

I remember being told about PMA — positive mental attitude — from another patient with cancer. I also remember sharing my fear after reading that the average prognosis for my diagnosis was 10 years. A patient with breast cancer told me that she had once been given a timeline too — and that it had been 20 years past it now! She convinced me to hold on to hope.

Someone else told me, “Think good and it will be good.” I understand that this doesn’t always hold true. Cancer doesn’t follow rules, and outcomes are never guaranteed. But I do believe there is value in choosing what we focus on. Filling your mind with hope, rather than fear, can make a difference in how we live through the experience.

The National Cancer Institute acknowledges that hope is not about ignoring reality — it’s about finding a way to live meaningfully alongside uncertainty. That idea has stayed with me. We don’t control the outcome, but we do have some say in how we face it and we need to connect.

Speaking with other patients also helped me gain perspective in ways that even my closest loved ones could not. My family and support system were always there for me, and I am deeply grateful for that. But there is a different kind of comfort in speaking with someone who sat in the same chair, heard similar words and faced the same fears. It creates a level of understanding that is hard to explain but easy to feel.

We shared our fears openly. We exchanged perspectives and coping strategies. Those conversations helped me stay calmer and more grounded than I might have been otherwise.

Over time, something shifted. The same kind of support that once helped me became something I could offer to others. Reaching out to someone newly diagnosed is no longer something I hesitate to do. I do it because I remember what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that kindness.

Helping someone else through their diagnosis doesn’t take away the uncertainty — but it gives purpose to the experience. It turns something frightening into something meaningful.

If you are newly diagnosed, I would gently encourage you to reach out — to a support group, to another patient or even just one person who understands. You do not have to go through this alone.

And if you are further along in your journey, consider being that person for someone else. A single conversation can bring calm, perspective and hope — sometimes exactly when it is needed most.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to subscribe to CURE®’s newsletters here.