Caregivers of breast cancer patients, mostly spouses but often family members or close friends, shoulder immense emotional and physical burdens that are frequently overlooked in cancer narratives.

While the spotlight is understandably on patients, caregivers face their own set of challenges, from balancing work and family responsibilities, to dealing with the mental toll of supporting a loved one through treatment and recovery.

The constant worry, fear of the unknown and the need to stay strong for the patient can lead to anxiety, depression and burnout. Many caregivers feel isolated, as their struggles often go unrecognised, leaving them without the emotional support they need. This emotional labour, combined with the physical demands of caregiving, can leave lasting impacts on their wellbeing.

The importance of caregiver support networks cannot be understated — whether it’s spouses, siblings or children, having access to emotional outlets and moments of self-care is crucial. These networks help caregivers maintain their own health, while providing the best possible care for their loved ones, as two caregivers tell Eos while narrating their experiences.

While cancer is often unforgiving for patients, it can take an equally drastic toll on those closest to them, especially their primary caregivers…

A HUSBAND’S STORY

Babar belonged to a family with no incidence of cancer. For him, it was always a disease he had heard of, but never seen firsthand. So, when his spouse, Zahra, was diagnosed with it, it was something he had no personal experience of.

“I didn’t know how to process it. Normally, diseases you are familiar with come and go in a few days and you’re back to normal,” Babar tells Eos. “Cancer is different. It ravages a person physically and emotionally. And its spillover hits the people around the person the most,” he continues.

Babar says that accepting that his spouse had cancer was the most difficult thing for him. “She was only 30 years old. And, despite a great support system, it was mostly the two of us.”

Through Zahra’s appointments, through her chemotherapy, Babar was the most active caregiver in her life. “Sometimes I felt alone, and had to put up a brave face for her, because she was already going through so much,” he continues.

It feels like the universe is conspiring against you, he says. “Your faith is tested. You lose sleep.” The emotional stress results in physical deterioration, with a lack of sleep and exercise, explains Babar. “For me, social gatherings became a thing of the past. And with a nine-to-five job, it got tougher.”

Talking about balancing responsibilities, Babar says that he was in the process of switching jobs when Zahra was diagnosed. When he received the offer to join the new firm, continues Babar, he told his boss about his wife having cancer.

“I told her that I will need space and understanding, because I want to be there for her in all her appointments and sessions of therapy and surgery,” narrates Babar.

The reassurance he received from his new boss allayed his concerns and encouraged him to join, he reveals. “And so that set the tone, work-wise. I had the liberty to take days off for my wife’s treatment, with no questions asked,” he says. “But balancing that with a small side hustle [pizza making] and the treatment was extremely tough. It was all manageable through the kindness and understanding of others,” he remarks.

Babar acknowledges that it would not have been possible without their support system — in the form of families and friends. “They, along with our colleagues, were our first line of comfort. They filled in for us, helped us in our absence and so much more,” Babar says with gratitude.

“It’s incredible how family and friends always come through, but it’s the support from colleagues, and even those who don’t know you personally, that really surprised us,” he says. “Their prayers, gifts and genuine concern for our well-being meant the most.”

A SON’S STORY

A colleague of mine, Shahzad Abdullah, went through a similar experience with his mother. “When a loved one is dying, at least on the emotional spectrum, it is as if you’re dying alongside them,” says Shahzad.

“The only difference is that they find peace at some point, while you’re left carrying the weight of their absence,” Shahzad continues in a solemn tone. “It is akin to being silently but profoundly cleaved, and carrying around an invisible wound that deepens with every passing day,” he adds.

The emotional toll is immeasurable, Shahzad tells Eos, a constant ache that never seems to subside.

“I found myself grappling with a profound sense of loss, fear and uncertainty, exasperated further by those fleeting, almost deluded in hindsight, spurts of hope.” Reflecting on it, he says that the physical and emotional exhaustion of caring for his mother, or Ammi, was relentless. “And I don’t think I have ever been pushed to those limits before. I don’t think I ever will be.”

Elaborating on the responsibilities, he likens it to walking a tightrope — finding the balance between caregiving, work and family life. “As Ammi’s condition worsened, the hospital visits became more frequent and demanding, forcing me to make the practical decision to resign from my job,” he reveals.

While it was a sacrifice, continues Shahzad, he knew it was one that was necessary. “I wanted to be with her in her final days,” he says. Even then, the demands of caregiving were overwhelming, he points out. “I had to navigate her illness, while also trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy for my own family.”

In all of this, says Shahzad, it was the support that he received from his friends that proved to be a lifeline. “They were always there, no questions asked, offering a listening ear, a helping hand, or simply their presence,” he says. For him, the extent of their support was a testament to their friendship and a source of immeasurable comfort during the most difficult times.

“I’ve learned to appreciate the power of human connection and the importance of self-care, even in the midst of tumultuous grief,” he continues. “Taking time for myself, even if it was just a few minutes, just to breathe, was essential, for maintaining my mental and emotional well-being,” he concludes.

The writer is the head of content at a communications agency.

Published in Dawn, EOS, October 6th, 2024