Simply understanding the pain and fears of your healthy children eases their journey. Being available to listen and say, “I hear how painful this is for you,” or “You sound scared. I am, too,” reminds siblings they are still valued members of the family. They need to understand that even though their brother or sister is absorbing the lion’s share of their parents’ time and care, they are still cherished. Siblings need to hear that what they feel matters, especially if parents don’t have a lot of time to spend with them. If parents understand that overwhelming emotions are normal, expected, and healthy, they can provide solace to all their children.

Brothers and sisters of children with cancer shared the following stories about some of the difficulties they faced.

Silent hurting heart

Dayna E. wrote the following poem when she was 13 years old. Two of Dayna’s brothers had cancer—one lived and one died. This poem was published in Bereavement magazine and is reprinted with permission.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” she smiled,

grinning from ear to ear.

The frown that just was on her face

just seemed to disappear.

But deep down where secrets are kept,

the pain began to swell.

All the hurt inside of her

just seemed to stay and dwell.

All the pain in her heart

was too much for her to take.

Pretending everything’s OK

is much too hard to fake.

She’d duck into the bathrooms

and hide inside the stalls.

Because no one could see her tears,

behind those dirty walls.

She was sick and tired of losing

and things never turning out right.

She had no hope left in her.

She was ready to give up the fight.

But she wiped away the teardrops,

put a smile back on her face,

pulled herself together, and

walked out of that place.

Life went on and things got better.

She thought that was a start.

But still, no one could see inside

her silent hurting heart.

Alana’s story

Alana F. (11 years old) remembers how family life changed when her sister, Laura, had cancer.

My sister was in fifth grade and had been sick for the last week or so. Laura always seemed to be my hero. Although we got into arguments, all siblings get into fights, so I didn’t worry. I didn’t know what was about to happen, but neither did anyone else.

I don’t quite remember how my parents told me she had cancer, but I do remember a lot of tears.

As time progressed, my life changed. I lived with my best friend and her parents, Catherine and Bill, but that changed too. Kelsie (my friend) and I got into a lot of arguments, but we still do. I don’t know if that is why my grandmother and grandfather moved up to live in our house so that they could take care of me. Living with them was different. My grandmother had different expectations of me than my mother did.

My parents would each take turns staying at the hospital. Some nights I would live with my mom, grammy, and grandpy; and the next it would be with my dad and them.

Of course going through this dilemma I felt left out. Here I was living with my grandparents, and my sister got to live with our parents. She got lots of flowers, cards, and gifts, and all I got was the feeling of love from my relatives. I know that love is better than material things, but when you are 6 years old, you don’t think so.

Things stayed the same for a long time. Then my sister went into remission and started living at home. I had to get used to my parents again and missed my grandparents.

My sister was spoiled at home, too. They bought her a waterbed, so she wouldn’t get cold. What did I get? A heating blanket; a used heating blanket.

Having a sister with cancer

Alison L. (6 years old) describes the experience of having a sister with cancer.

I think having a sister with cancer is not fun. My mom paid more attention to my sister. I had to stay with Daddy. Mommy picked Kathryn up and not me. My mommy wanted to stay with me, she did not want to leave my sister alone. Sometimes I felt like I was going to throw up.

For brothers and sisters

Ellen Z. discusses the impact that her cancer had on her siblings. (Reprinted with permission from Candlelighters Youth Newsletter.)

I am the first of four children and the only girl. When I was diagnosed with ALL at the age of 14, it affected all our lives. My brother Wes was 13, Matthew was 4, and Erik was 2. They and my parents were my support system.

When I was first diagnosed and in the hospital, Dr. Plunkett asked if I wanted anyone besides my parents present when he gave us the diagnosis. I told him I wanted Wes with me. Wes is only 14 months younger than I am, and we have always been very close. He took it all in, and we all decided that we would face this thing, and beat it, as a family. Then he and I sent our parents off so we could have some private time together.

Wes was my support at school and at home. He stuck up for me and kept an eye on me. I lost some of my “friends” after I was diagnosed because of my illness and their fear of it. Wes was always there for me. That’s not to say we didn’t have our fights. Poor Wes—I could hit him, but he couldn’t hurt me physically because of my low blood counts. Sometimes I took advantage of that.

Matt and Erik were also a great source of comfort and support. They would accompany my mom and me to treatments and hold my hand when I got stuck. If one of them wasn’t with me when I went in, the nurses would ask me where they were. These little boys made it easier for me to be brave.

I hope my brothers know how much I appreciate, too, the extra time they gave me with our parents during my illness. My parents were very good about splitting time between me and my brothers. If one was with me at treatment or the hospital, then the other was spending time with the boys. Family and friends were also a big help.

I’ve been out of treatment for 10 years now. I teach second grade and spend a week of my summer as a counselor at a camp for kids with cancer. I am the proud sister of three Eagle Scouts. Wes is married now and lives in another state. I realize how much he meant to me during that trying time and how much he means to me now.

If you are a sibling to someone with cancer and wonder if you make a difference to your sick brother or sister, I would like to tell you that you make a very big difference.

My sister had cancer

Eleven-year-old Jeff P. explains what happened when “My Sister Had Cancer.” (Reprinted with permission from Candlelighters Childhood Cancer Foundation Canada’s CONTACT newsletter.)

My sister Jamie got cancer when she was 23 months old. I was 8, and my two other sisters were 6 and 4. My sisters and I were scared that Jamie was going to die. We weren’t able to go to public places and also weren’t allowed to have friends in our house. We missed a lot of school when there was chicken pox in our school. I got teased in school sometimes because my sister had no hair. Once an older kid called my sister a freak. My mom was sad most of the time. It was very hard. We are all pleased that Jamie is doing well, and our lives are getting back to normal. It was an experience I’ll never forget, and I hope it has made me a stronger person.

From a sibling

Fifteen-year-old Sara M. won first prize in a Candlelighters Creative Arts Contest with her essay, “From a Sibling.” Her work is reprinted with permission.

Childhood cancer—a topic most teens don’t think much about. I know I didn’t until it invaded our home.

Childhood cancer totally disrupts lives, not only of the patient, but also of those closest to him/her, including the siblings. First, I was numbed with unbelieving shock. “This can’t be happening to me and my family.” Along with this came a whole dictionary full of incomprehensible words and a total restructuring of our (up to that time) fairly normal lifestyle.

One day I was waiting for my parents to pick me up from summer camp and anticipating the start of our family vacation to Canada. When they arrived, they informed me that my older brother Danny was very sick, and we wouldn’t be taking that trip after all. The following day, the call came that confirmed the diagnosis. Instead of packing for vacation, we packed our bags and headed for Children’s Hospital in Denver, 200 miles away, where Danny was scheduled for surgery and chemotherapy.

I developed my own disease (perhaps from fear I would “catch” what Danny had) with symptoms similar to my brother’s:

Sympathy pains. I asked, “Why him?” when he came home from the hospital, exhausted from throwing up a life-saving drug for three days.

Fear. How much sicker is Danny going to get before he gets well? He is going to get well, isn’t he?

Resentment. My parents seemed so worried about him all the time. They didn’t seem to have time for me anymore.

Confusion. Why couldn’t Danny and I wrestle around like we used to? Why couldn’t I slug him when he made me mad?

Jealousy. I felt insignificant when I was holding down the fort at home.

The parts I hated the most were: not understanding what was being done to him, answering endless worried phone calls, and hearing the answers to my own questions when my parents talked to other people.

I was helped to sort out these feelings and identify with other siblings when I attended a program held just for teens who had siblings with cancer. We got together, tried to learn how to cross-country ski, and talked about our siblings and ourselves.

Perhaps you remember this story: US speed skating star Dan Jansen, 22, carrying a winning time into the back straightaway of the 1,000 meter race, inexplicably fell. Two days earlier, after receiving word that his older sister, Jane, had died of leukemia, Dan crashed in the 500 meter race. Having a sibling with cancer can immobilize even an Olympic athlete. Dan was expected to bring home two gold medals, but cancer in a sibling intervened. He became, instead, the most famous cancer sibling of all time. He shared his grief before a television audience of two billion people. Dan later went on to win the World Cup in Norway and Germany, and capture the gold at the Olympics. He is the first to tell you the real champions can be found in the oncology wards of children’s hospitals across our nation, and the siblings who are fighting the battle right along beside them.