How to Comfort Parents with a Child in the Hospital

1. Encourage them to keep going, even if it’s hard

There are simple and heartfelt ways to encourage that won’t cost anything. Even something like sharing simple, comforting words can matter so much:

• “I see you, you are doing great, and you can keep fighting."

• "We are in awe of your strength, and we see the incredible fight you are putting up every single day."

• "Your courage as a family is inspiring. You are doing an amazing job.”

For a parent running on empty, who feels invisible in the daily hospital routine, these words make us feel seen and validated in the midst of exhaustion. Hearing this can oftentimes be the lifeline needed to get through another daunting day.

2. Reassure parents they are not alone

For cancer parents, being supported and surrounded by support and love is vital. This support didn't just help us through the initial fight but carried us through the new normal of navigating childhood cancer.

To me, trying to navigate through childhood cancer on my own seemed, and can be, nearly impossible, let alone extremely lonely.

• If you want to help, the most profound thing you can do is simply show up and consistently reassure parents that they are not invisible and that their family is not forgotten.

• The natural isolation and fear that sets in can be overwhelming, which is why parents can crave connection and a sense that we are not fighting this battle alone.

• Knowing that others had walked this path and were still willing to help light the way was the greatest reassurance we received.

3. Ask "How Can I Help?"

When we first found out about my daughter’s cancer, I laid in bed crying with a blanket around by body for a week – I was not strong enough at that time to be able to “do life” like I had been before her diagnosis.

There were times while bearing life with childhood cancer on my shoulders, even with the support of my family, my daughter’s dad, and parents where I still felt alone. I wanted life to go back to how it was “before cancer,” before my daughter had two brain surgeries and a long treatment plan that left her with permanent brain damage and physical, emotional, social, and mobility delays for the rest of her life.

Once I accepted that I could not do this alone, whenever someone asked how they could help, I was honest – clothes for the kids for the fall weather, groceries, laundry, meals, carpools.

Anything people offered, I accepted the help with so much gratitude, because I truly needed it.

• Understand it can be incredibly difficult for families to be honest that help is needed and to admit the daily struggles.

• Trust that you are not being a burden if or when you ask or have questions. Your willingness is a genuine gift and allows you to offer meaningful support and a place where a cancer parent can feel comfortable to talk about what it’s like. 
  

• You can also get involved in other ways too – blood drives, creating or donating to a GoFundMe, providing special outings for the family, sending care packages, starting meal trains, blankets (homemade or purchased), daily necessities, a cleaning crew, or whatever creative ideas you have! Any and everything will be met with such gratitude.  

For us, having a community of organizations like Starlight, family, friends helped pull us out of what felt like “everything is impossible” to “we can do this.” This allowed us to accept the support we received from our network, and allowed us to focus all our energy and attention where it mattered most: on my daughter’s care and recovery.

4. It's okay to offer hope

Hope becomes a daily necessity, whether we as parents believe it or not. When someone tells us “It’s going to be okay” we can be at a loss for words, and even though we have our doubts, we want to believe it too.

Another thing that we forget is that people don’t always know the right thing to say. While I understand where the person is coming from, regardless of how much I wanted to believe and know it, whenever I heard “It’s going to be okay” it always led to me wonder, Well, is it? The reason being, as cancer parent, I wanted everything to be okay, but knew circumstances could change at any moment, no matter how much I yearned for “everything to be ok.”

Stats, individual stories and the child who change after brain surgery, treatment regimens, fevers, long-term effects and so much more, can make you doubt even further all of those things, which are shared with so much uncertainty as well.

• It’s still okay to say what you want and feel comfortable with because families might be just as uncomfortable with what to say as you might be. When asked “How are you doing” we wonder what to really say, spill everything on our minds, or just say what many may expect “Things are going okay, [kid] is doing really well” when maybe things may be so much harder.

• And even though navigating that line can be difficult for both sides, it’s important to know that we truly appreciate any help you can provide, including encouragement in the capacity you are comfortable with.

5. Sometimes you don’t need to say anything. You can just listen.

Whether it’s sharing our stories out loud, talking on the phone or in person, or even trying to explain to a school and teachers about childhood cancer, it feels vulnerable. Or it’s just too much to swallow and us as parents don’t know where to start or what to even say.

Then we might ask ourselves: “Do I really share the truth?” “Do they really want to know about how brutal most days are, and that the weeks start blurring together?”

While our minds might go into overdrive in moments like that, instead, we can ask someone to listen.

• Being able to open our hearts and share our child’s cancer story helps us with not only comfort but remembering where we’ve gotten to and are now. That every big and little thing your child did, procedures, and overcoming cancer adversity was important, in the most crucial ways and that they matter to others too.

• Rather than feeling pressured to give advice or say the perfect thing, I encourage you to step into the simple, powerful role of a listener, offering a safe space where a parent can be fully heard and emotionally supported.