The affects of cancer on relationships

Whether we realise it or not, our life is based on relationships,all on different levels. We have our loved ones and family, then close friends, people we know from work, and people who help us in our lives like tradesman etc.There are people that we meet at various stages of our lives, that come and go. Sometimes it is hard to admit, but we really only have room in our lives for a few close friends outside our families.Time just doesn't permit us to form too many lasting relationships.

I know that some of my younger readers might disagree with me, particular when they look at how many ' friends' they have on Facebook or followers on Twitter,but it is true. We all may know a lot of people, but that is different.

Relationships are always interesting at the best of times.I'm sure, like me you see couples and wonder how their relationship works. Two people, who on the face of it have very little in common, yet seem very happy together. So many of my friends, are totally opposite to their partners, yet they make great couples.

One thing certain to put a relationship under strain, is something like a cancer diagnosis. I have always said that when someone receives a life changing diagnosis, the dynamics of relationships change.Some don't even last the course! One minute, your life is planned in front of you and everything is as it should be. The next minute you are facing a very uncertain future, dealing with things that only happen to other people.

Once I had reached fifty, I really thought that if I was going to get any illness I would have had it by then. I don't know why I thought that, as logic tells me that the older I get, the more chance there is of getting ill! No heart or cancer issues, I never even took a day off sick. Then, out of the blue I got my diagnosis. I was very sick with a poor prognosis. My life plan was now in the bin!

My relationship changed immediately! I couldn't work,therefore earn money. I was so weak, I had to be driven around, I was eternally visiting the hospital, I was having constant treatment, which made me sick and exhausted. My appearance changed, I lost all my hair, I went fat and thin, depending on what drugs I was on. Totally lost my libido, (unsurprisingly!) I almost lost my will to live. All the roles that I was fulfilling in my relationship, I could no longer do.

As it turned out, my perception of the new me, wasn't at all the one that my family had. I felt totally helpless and relied on them for almost everything.That feeling is very difficult to imagine unless you have experienced it, but for someone as independent as me, it was almost as bad as the disease itself. I had changed from being a driver, to a very helpless passenger in my relationship.

I can really understand, how something like this puts pressure on peoples relationships. All the things that we enjoyed had been taken away, and I felt guilty, for the sacrifices my wife was making. Of course it wasn't my fault, but that is how I felt.To a degree I still feel that way today.

For me, without the help and support of my family, through these tough times, I don't think I would be here writing this, but I know lesser relationships could have crumbled. I know of partners that have left because of the illness. They just couldn't cope. Others start off ok but struggle if it is a long term battle.Some relationships get stronger, and others collapse.When so many of the factors, that a relationship are based on are taken away, other factors can strengthen, to compensate, but that is not always the case.

I have briefly touched on the effects of a cancer diagnosis on your personal relationship. Now just imagine, the effects with your employer, and the knock on with your finances. Stress is the last thing that you need at a time like that, but that is the one thing that you will have in abundance, whether you like it or not. It will be then that you will find out, the strength of your own relationship.

Living with the new me is the relationship I find the most difficult. I'm not sure if I will ever get used to that.

Sibling donor stem cell transplant ( Suleika's story)

Todays post is an incredibly moving story from an inspirational young lady who is a writer in America. As you will know by now, I am the very grateful recipient of a life saving stem cell transplant.I have mentioned previously, about some of the emotions that people face, and this story, paints a very accurate picture regarding family relationships and more, when facing a life threatening illness.I would like to thank Suleika, for allowing me to share her story through this blog, and I know it will be of tremendous benefit for anyone facing similar issues.

There are a lot of things about having cancer in your 20s that feel absurd. One of those instances was when I found myself calling my brother Adam on Skype while he was studying abroad in Argentina to tell him that I had just been diagnosed with leukaemia and that — no pressure — he was my only hope for a cure.


Today, my brother and I share almost identical DNA, the result of a successful bone marrow transplant I had last April using his healthy stem cells. But Adam and I couldn’t be more different. Like a lot of siblings, we got along swimmingly at one moment and were in each other’s hair the next. My younger brother by two years, he said I was a bossy older sister. I, of course, thought I knew best for my little brother and wanted him to see the world how I did. My brother is quieter, more reflective. I’m a chronic social butterfly who is probably a bit too impulsive and self-serious. I dreamed of dancing in the New York City Ballet, and he imagined himself playing in the N.B.A. While the sounds of the rapper Mos Def blared from Adam’s room growing up, I practised for concerto competitions. Friends joked that one of us had to be adopted. We even look different, some people say. But really, we’re just siblings like any others.


When I was diagnosed with cancer at age 22, I learned just how much cancer affects families when it affects individuals. My doctors informed me that I had a high-risk form of leukaemia and that a bone marrow transplant was my only shot at a cure. ‘Did I have any siblings?’ the doctors asked immediately. That would be my best chance to find a bone marrow match. Suddenly, everyone in our family was leaning on the little brother. He was in his last semester of college, and while his friends were applying to jobs and partying the final weeks of the school year away, he was soon shuttling from upstate New York to New York City for appointments with the transplant doctors.


I’d heard of organ transplants before, but what was a bone marrow transplant? The extent of my knowledge about bone marrow came from French cuisine: the fancy dish occasionally served with a side of toasted baguette.
Jokes aside, I learned that cancer patients become quick studies in the human body and how cancer treatment works. The thought of going through a bone marrow transplant, which in my case called for a life-threatening dose of chemotherapy followed by a total replacement of my body’s bone marrow, was scary enough. But then I learned that finding a donor can be the scariest part of all.


It turns out that not all transplants are created equal. Without a match, the path to a cure becomes much less certain, in many cases even impossible. This is particularly true for minorities and people from mixed ethnic backgrounds, groups that are severely underrepresented in bone marrow registries. As a first generation American, the child of a Swiss mother and Tunisian father, I suddenly found myself in a scary place. My doctors worried that a global, harried search for a bone marrow match would delay critical treatment for my fast-moving leukaemia.

That meant that my younger brother was my best hope — but my doctors were careful to measure hope with reality. Siblings are the best chance for a match, but a match only happens about 25 percent of the time.
To our relief, results showed that my brother was a perfect match: a 10-out-of-10 on the donor scale. It was only then that it struck me how lucky I had been. Doctors never said it this way, but without a match, my chances of living through the next year were low. I have met many people since who, after dozens of efforts to encourage potential bone marrow donors to sign up, still have not found a match. Adding your name to the bone marrow registry is quick, easy and painless — you can sign up at marrow.org — and it just takes a swab of a Q-tip to get your DNA. For cancer patients around the world, it could mean a cure.


The bone marrow transplant procedure itself can be dangerous, but it is swift, which makes it feel strangely anti-climactic. On “Day Zero,” my brother’s stem cells dripped into my veins from a hanging I.V. bag, and it was all over in minutes. Doctors tell me that the hardest part of the transplant is recovering from it. I’ve found that to be true, and I’ve also recognised that the same is true for Adam. As I slowly grow stronger, my little brother has assumed a caretaker role in my life. I carry his blood cells — the ones keeping me alive — and he is carrying the responsibility, and often fear and anxiety, of the loving onlooker. He tells me I’m still a bossy older sister. But our relationship is now changed forever. I have to look to him for support and guidance more than I ever have. He’ll always be my little brother, but he’s growing up fast.

For more information regarding stem cell transplants etc in the UK/Europe please contact Anthony Nolan


Suleika Jaouad (pronounced su-LAKE-uh ja-WAD) is a 24-year-old writer who lives in New York City. Her column, “Life, Interrupted,” chronicling her experiences as a young adult with cancer, appears regularly on Well. Follow @suleikajaouad on Twitter.
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