This section may not interest anyone but I think it’s important. Feel free to skip it. Also feel free to poach from it and ask me anything if you know someone who could benefit.
The last time there was a lot of support. Thinking back, I know I was in touch with an agency or charity that phoned me every day and who visited me in my home, leaving me with a little care package. I had an online group that was somewhere in Nova Scotia, a very supportive group of women at various stages of breast cancer. I also went to relaxation sessions at Wellspring who had a satellite office near where I worked.
After my surgery, I went to the UK. I sent an email to the appropriate Department at St Bart’s Hospital asking them what the procedure was for getting radiation therapy and they responded quite quickly, letting me know that they were registering me with one of their doctors and when and where to come. The UK system, well supported by various departments and charities, could not have been more rewarding. There were home visits, free complementary Therapies at The Haven in Fulham and in-person support groups through the local hospital. Going to radiation was tiring but interesting, since the hospital was in a very historical area which I was able to explore as I could. I liked to walk from Liverpool Street Station and through the tunnel at London Wall. If I had time I could go look at the wall ruins. London felt new, although familiar, and the first few times I got a bit lost.
The radiation department at Barts was away from the main buildings. The waiting room was old, but the nurses were helpful and friendly, and ready with tea and biscuits at each visit. A hospital worker called me to explain that I could get all of my fare money refunded, and if necessary I could get Hospital transportation. I also received two gifts during my treatment time. One was a gift to buy a new mattress, and the other a gift to fund a short holiday.
My support group met weekly at St Joseph’s Hospice in Hackney, where we were served a delicious vegetarian lunch and were treated to complementary therapies such as Reiki, reflexology, and pilates classes. At the Haven I also had interviews with a herbalist, a homeopath, a masseuse, and more Reiki. When this all ended after ten years (We don’t need to see you anymore) I felt bereft.
Fast forward to 2024. Whether it’s Canada or these more stringent times, things are quite different. I contacted the Cancer Society who sent me resources and chatted with me at some length. I haven’t heard from them again.
I gpt in touch with two organisations- Gilda’s Club and Wellspring. I spoke to counsellors in both places-all support, or most of it, is virtual thanks to Covid. Things haven’t returned to pre-pandemic rules yet. I’ve taken one Wellspring class, which was an online visualisation session. I will do more with Wellspring once I have time to check their offerings. For Gilda’s I’ve had two phone calls and filled out several forms. Many of their classes are not until the new year but I’m expecting to fill in with things in the meantime. There are other organisations I have yet to contact. I can arrange individual counselling sessions but one step at a time.
Update January 2026: There’s so much support if you look for it. It’s odd to me that many don’t know or don’t care, but that’s me.
Gilda’s – there are many virtual offerings. I’ve taken meditation, yoga nidra, support group, art therapy, reiki, and perhaps more. One of the best things was called Prep Talk where all of my questions about seeing the doctor were considered, curated and fed back to me in a format I could use.
Wellspring – a mix of virtual and in-person groups. I’ve taken only the virtual. Wellspring programs feel more ‘serious’ and I’ve been a bit more selective. There was a cancer support group (Healing Journey) that is multi-part and educational – so interesting but I did feel I was on a medical school course. I stopped after part 1, not sure if I’ll go back.)Â I’ve also taken the writing workshop, where it felt more like learning how to write, rather than focussing on our own writing. Money Matters has been a great program, still in progress. A counselor will help you analyse your financial situation and help you get the best support possible. I need to follow up on this. In the future I could consider some in-person visits and double up with a visit to my friend, Leslie, who is running the childbirth education program that I was once part of.
Talking of money, I was eligible for EI (Employment Insurance) Sickness benefits. Every two weeks for six months I would receive 60% of my median salary from the government and could earn up to $100 on my own. I kept three hours of work to keep my foot in the door and my mind sharp after a few weeks off. My company has no sick benefit or insurance so I could just keep my head above water. I haven’t returned to my 20-hour schedule yet. I feel just about ready but some of my projects are slow to take me back. It was always a risk. My pay has halved and there’s no extra help.
Look Good Feel Better: This is such a great group. I have taken four workshops with them, all virtual. The best was the makeup and skincare workshop. The host demonstrated skincare and make up techniques specifically for people in treatment and about a week later I received a good-sized kit of makeup and skincare samples of my own. I also took the headwear and wig session and gained confidence I could be happy with no hair. Advanced skincare was more serious and gave me a lot of information that I might not have thought of.
After Breast Cancer: This store has been so helpful. I met with Natasha at a lingerie store that includes ABC. I was fitted for a prosthetic and a bra all funded by a charity. In the end I walked away with the heavier-than-expected fake breast that fits inside my pocketed bra – no more lopsided profile – and two bras at no charge. Well, not exactly. I applied to the government for help and paid the difference. I also ordered a heavy compression bra from one of their suppliers and got help with the fitting. Fantastic charity.
After finishing radiation I was eligible for a program called ELLICSR: Health, Wellness & Cancer Survivorship Centre run by Princess Margaret Hospital and taking place at Toronto General Hospital. Here for eight weeks every Friday morning I had 90 minutes of education to help me rehabilitate and 30 mins of strengthening and cardio exercise especially designed for me.
I also have help for the arthritis in my knee and for Lymphoedema at Princess Margaret Rehabilitation and Survivorship program. All in progress.
Let’s not forget social media. I belong to three Facebook groups. They’re great for asking questions and feeling less alone. It’s also good to be able to answer questions from those who come later. I had an unexpected connection from TikTok! A lady in Texas was blogging about her breast cancer journey (@foolshmortal999). When she mentioned that she was starting Taxol on the same day that I was, I messaged her. I had already made a connection with someone from a Facebook group who shared that start date. The three of us have chatted back and forth and we’ve shared the milestones. We’re called the Taxol Triplets. From Theresa, I’ve learned about the financial challenges of those in the USA with cancer. I’m so grateful for universal healthcare.
Finally, every two to three weeks I have counselling sessions in the Geriatric (that took me a while to swallow) Psychiatric Program at Mount Sinai Hospital. I love my therapist, Sarah, and have the option of Zoom sessions when I can’t make it down in person.
Mount Sinai also gave me a grant after I’d asked them questions about help with getting some medical equipment while I wasn’t earning.
My Gilda’s support group has now become a WhatsApp chat group. We talk every day and have met three times. When I was still in treatment I’d have a chance to meet up with some of them if they were there at the same time. Friends for life, maybe. My ELLICSR group also has become a WhatsApp group, not as bonded but definitely in touch and hoping for an in-person coffee meeting before the summer. Meeting new friends with similar ties is a big plus for me.
I’ve hesitated to talk about the support from friends and family. I’ve been mostly alone. While many like privacy and to be left alone, I’m the sort of person who needs a bit of pampering and fuss when sick or in pain. Thank you, Denise, for the cake! Is it bad I forget the second gift? Ouch. But I do remember chocolate-covered strawberries, yum. A most touching gift came from an unexpected source. The people who lived upstairs when I was going through surgery and chemo sent a gift of flowers and an Uber gift certificate. Othewise, It’s been quiet. No casseroles, no cards, no gifts, and the usual barrage of ‘how are you feeling?’ from people on chat. Always hard to know how to answer that – honestly or not? What I’ve learned is that lots of people, probably mercifully, have no idea what cancer or its treatment or recovery are like. I try to gently educate but how much does anyone need to know when they’re removed from it?
There’s help out there if you want it!
I’ve read straight through these posts. Thank you for doing this. It is important work to share this. So much I didn’t know. I knew about making casseroles though. At least I knew that. Wish I could send one from Hackney. Sending all best wishes instead. xxx
Thanks, Sharon. Tell you what – describe the casserole and I’ll eat it virtually!
That was an interesting read! I wonder if times have changed or if it’s differences in country? I know when I had breast cancer 18 years ago, I didn’t want to be part of any groups or to have people around so I’m a crummy person for information- I know there were certainly resources available through Mt Sinai and Princess Margaret but I spoke to nobody except the oncologist. I do remember people didn’t ask me how I was- people are often uncomfortable talking about cancer. I was just teasing David because 3 days after my surgery, I took a train to the cottage where I joined the family for two weeks and I’ve never let him forget that nobody thought I needed picking up. Lives become complicated as we get older with jobs and spouses to deal with- I’m sorry you felt alone. xx
Yes, basically people don’t know what to say. They don’t know much and I’m happy that they don’t really. Who wants to know all this stuff? It’s why I hesitated about writing about it and making it ‘public.’ Do people need to know or do they need to have the truth? It’s different for everyone after all. This conversation comes up a lot in support groups. We share how people react and how difficult it is to respond to the ‘how are you doing?’ question. It’s well-intentioned of course. I don’t really know. I’m very aware that people have their reasons for not showing up. But that didn’t matter, to be honest. Whatever their reasons were, and I totally understood them, I felt the loss. Their reasons didn’t change anything. Your story about your family doesn’t surprise me. We all soldier through. We all want to be strong. Sometimes I think, you know what, I just want to fall apart for a while. Don’t even try to stop me. I’m not here to make you feel better. When someone in your family dies, you field all the sympathy calls and – yes – you end up comforting them. Shrug. (You think I’m angry? Yes, maybe.) Just be there for people who are vulunerable. This is often just about listening even across miles. Be OK with them telling you they feel like shit.I think that’s a meaningful gift. Finally, yes, I think I have been that person. Of course. (Your gifts were everything.)