Every time I meet with my financial advisor, I nod along like I know what he’s talking about—but truthfully, I’m lost somewhere between “diversified portfolio” and “market volatility.” Right now, with the stock market bouncing like a toddler on a sugar high, I feel even more clueless. I leave those meetings with a stack of colorful charts and a vague sense that something important was said… I just couldn’t quite hold onto it.
That feeling? That mix of confusion, pressure to understand, and fear of making the wrong choice? That’s exactly what many parents describe when they first step into the world of pediatric cancer.
When a child is diagnosed, the financial-market-level chaos begins. Except it’s not just numbers and stocks—it’s your child’s health. You’re handed a whirlwind of new terms, treatment plans, medication names, and schedules, all while your emotions are still reeling from the diagnosis itself.
This flood of facts and decisions is overwhelming. And that’s okay.
Why It Feels So Heavy
Your brain is trying to protect you. When you’re in crisis mode, your nervous system focuses on survival. This means it’s harder to retain new information, especially when it’s emotionally charged like during a new diagnosis. You might sit through an hour-long meeting with your care team and walk out remembering only one sentence—or none at all.
You are not alone in this.
Give Yourself Permission to Absorb Slowly
We don’t expect you to learn everything all at once. You can come back. You can ask again. You can write things down—or ask someone else to. Most hospitals will have patient educators, social workers, and nurses (and even doctors!) who are more than willing to explain things a second (or tenth) time.
Here are a few gentle strategies that can help:
- Bring a notebook or use your phone to jot down questions as they come up.
- Ask for handouts or visual guides—sometimes diagrams say more than paragraphs.
- Repeat things back to your provider: “So just to make sure I understand…”
- Assign a ‘second brain’—a friend, family member, or partner who can help track information or attend appointments.
- Take breaks. Your heart and mind need space to breathe too.
Compassion Over Perfection
You are not expected to become a pediatric oncologist overnight. Your job is to love your child and advocate for them, and part of that is recognizing when you’re at capacity. Information overload is real, and it’s valid to feel foggy, forgetful, or frustrated.
Over time, what felt foreign becomes familiar. What felt impossible becomes part of your rhythm. Until then, be kind to yourself. You’re doing something incredibly hard. And you’re doing it with courage, whether you feel brave or not.
