How to Show Up When Your Friend Has Cancer

How to Show Up When Your Friend Has Cancer: A Real Talk Guide

I just found out my best friend has cancer. What the actual fuck. So here I am — heartbroken, angry, and deep in research mode — trying to figure out how to show up for her. And sharing it all with you, in case you're here too.

There’s no way to sugarcoat it: cancer sucks. It rips the rug out from under you, rearranges every priority, and brings up a storm of fear, anger, grief, and disbelief — even if you’re not the one in the treatment chair. Especially when it’s your best friend. Your person. Your chosen family.

If you just found out your friend has cancer, you might feel terrified. Frozen. Maybe even in denial. That’s normal. There’s no playbook for this. But one thing is true: they are about to go through hell, and you have the power to make the road a little less lonely, a little less heavy.

Here's what to do (and not do) when your best friend is facing the fight of their life.

1. Say Something. Even If You Don’t Know What.

The worst thing you can do? Disappear because you’re scared of saying the wrong thing. Show up anyway. Say, “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here. I love you.”

Avoid cliches like “Everything happens for a reason” or “You’re so strong.” Instead, go for: “This is fucking unfair. I’m pissed, too. I’ve got you.”

It’s not about fixing it — it’s about witnessing their pain without looking away.

2. Be the Friend Who Does, Not Just Says

Don’t say “Let me know if you need anything.” They won’t. Not because they don’t need help, but because they’re exhausted and overwhelmed.

Instead:

• Drop off a week of groceries or a freezer meal. No need to ring the bell.

• Offer a ride to treatment. And bring snacks.

• Send a text that doesn’t ask for a reply. Just let them know they’re loved.

• Help coordinate a care calendar. Rally the troops.

The best friends don’t wait to be asked. They just do.

3. Normalize the Mess

Cancer is messy. It’s scans and surgeries and side effects and tears in the Target parking lot. Your friend may not always want to talk about it — or sometimes, they may want to talk about nothing else.

Be a safe space for all of it:

• The ugly cries

• The dark humor

• The days they pretend everything is normal

Let them be exactly where they are without trying to rush them through it.

4. Show Up for the Long Haul

The first few weeks, everyone texts. Everyone sends flowers. But after the diagnosis dust settles, the silence creeps in.

Don’t be that person who fades out.

Keep showing up:

• On treatment day #12

• On scan day

• After the hair falls out

• When the prognosis changes

• When the bills pile up

Cancer isn’t just one moment. It’s a whole damn marathon. Be their water station.

5. Make Space for Joy, Too

Don’t let cancer steal all the light. Watch dumb comedies together. Send memes. Celebrate small wins. Remind them that they’re still them — not just a patient.

Sometimes the greatest gift is normalcy: a night on the couch, a walk around the block, a conversation about anything but cancer.

6. Be Ready for Your Own Feelings

Watching someone you love go through cancer will wreck you in quiet, unexpected ways. Rage. Grief. Guilt. Fear. Powerlessness.

You don’t need to hide that — but don’t make them take care of your pain either.

Talk to a therapist. Scream in the car. Go for long walks. Write it out. But don’t bottle it up.

You can’t be everything. But you can be real. And sometimes that’s exactly what your friend needs.

7. Say “Fuck Cancer” — Then Keep Fighting Back

Make a donation. Start a fundraiser. Shave your head. Drop off cookies at the infusion center. Make cancer care kits. Volunteer. Advocate.

Your friend is in a battle they didn’t ask for. Standing beside them isn’t just about support — it’s about resistance. Hope. Community.

Final Word: Love Loudly, Without a Script

There’s no perfect way to walk beside someone through cancer. You will mess up. You’ll say the wrong thing. But if you keep showing up with love, presence, and fierce loyalty, you’re doing it right.

Your friend may not remember every word — but they’ll remember that you stayed.

So be that friend. Love hard. Hold hands. Cry together. Laugh when you can. And never stop saying: “I’m here. No matter what.”